The Seventh Soul
by Natasha Vloyski
Summary: Complete!A 7th year story. Once again Harry is on a quest to destroy the Horcruxes and Voldemort. There are surprises galore. Could it be? Snape's mother is still a live? All canon characters are included. This is 'extreme' reading at its' best. Enjoy!
1. Chapter 1

The Seventh Soul

Chapter One Sadness and Sorrow

An attractive young woman hurried up the London street walking like a gazelle in high heels and a tight and short, mid-thigh skirt. Her brown hair was pulled up into a neat coif. The street was rundown and crowded an industrial district. It was a poorer section of the city and even at midday there were derelicts sitting on stoops along the way. They called out to her as she moved along. She kept her head straight and ignored their leers, jeers or sometimes plaintive cries. It looked as if she knew where she was going without looking at the encrusted house numbers, some of which were missing or faded or painted over. She stopped, craned her rather slim neck and tilted her head to stare up at a set of windows that were open in the late summer. There were no welcoming curtains at the window and the stairs that led to the third floor flat were filthy. Her heels clicked against bare wood as she climbed.

Rapping lightly on the door she leaned her head against its wood to better hear any stirrings from within. There was a rustle and she nodded to herself. She felt her heart speed up as she realized he was there. She bounced on the balls of her feet and shuffled the heavy folder of papers she held tightly against her chest.

The door remained shut but a voice, muffled and low, emanated from the other side. "Who is it?" it said.

"It's me," she answered and before he could ask the identifying question she continued, "I got ten Outstandings in my O.W.L.S and a Exceeds Expectations in DADA." She knew that if a muggle had been standing nearby, her words would have not made any sense. The person on the other side of the door liked to amuse himself with having her repeat it even though she still felt mortified at having received the poorer mark in Defense Against the Dark Arts. She frowned at the door, waiting. He had to give an appropriate response before opening it. It was for security purposes. She stared at the peeling puce paint of the door with a number 12 in tarnished brass letters hanging on it.

"I have a friend named Dobby," the voice mumbled. "He's short with very long ears." The door opened a crack and then widened. The person who stared back at her had light brown hair, green eyes and wore a cap low over his forehead. "Hi. Come in."

She slipped through the door and looked around for a split second and then dumped her armful of papers on a table next to an unmade bed. The room was sparsely finished and hot. Not even a breeze came through the opened window. The room also smelled slightly of old rot and decay and dirt although he had swept it and had placed a few belongings on the rickety table that sat near the window. It had two chairs. She sat in one and demurely crossed her legs. She was comfortable in wearing either muggle or witches clothing.

"So what are your plans, Harry? I imagine it was horrible at the Dursleys. I'm glad you got away safely last night. I lay awake for hours worrying. By the way I like the bleached hair." her words were rushed and she tried a smile, but it faded quickly.

The young man dropped into the chair opposite her and laid his hand on the papers she had dropped on the table. "I had plenty of time to think while I was there Hermione." Harry politely kept from going through the paperwork and instead, sat chatting with her. "Thanks to you it was easier than it could have been, what with changing my money into pounds and all of that. I just slipped away last night on an errand and caught a bus. It was safer all around rather than waiting until midnight."

"And you weren't followed?" she asked and he shook his head, still staring at her with his green eyes as if asking a million questions. "Don't worry about your things. I'll take care of Hedwig and your trunk and all." She placed her hands on the table and folded them together. He nodded and remained silent. There were deep shadows under the green eyes, a sign that he had not been sleeping either. He also looked customarily thin after a lengthy stay with his aunt and uncle. "Just think, Harry," she said quietly, "you'll never have to go back there again."

He nodded again.

"What will you do for food and all of that?" she asked and noticed that there was a small kitchen area. She saw a few things on the counter.

"I'll be fine, Hermione." He followed her eyes, his own looked haunted. "I won't be here long enough to worry about it."

"There's a map in there," she said finally, knowing that he wanted to examine the papers she had brought. "You'll have to do some checking around when you get in the area. It seems that when you ask about Godrics Hollow, people give varying descriptions and directions. It's almost as if its unplottable." She leaned over as he spread the map over the table. "Although Mr. Weasley swears that it isn't." She placed a hand on his. "You'll promise to at least send news to one of us as frequently as you can."

"I've decided it's best that you don't know exactly what I'm doing Hermione because I think that you'd be in more danger, but I'll try. You're still planning on going back to Hogwarts if it opens?" he asked. She nodded. "Good. You'll be ever so much help if you're there and in touch with the Order. What about Ron?" Harry asked sitting back and pulling the map to him. "What has he decided?"

"He's going back, too," she said. "Since you won't let us go with you, he's decided that he'll be there. We can keep you informed of what's happening there and at the Ministry, although its hard to tell if Mr. Weasley will get sacked, or demoted or whatever, now that Dumbled…." she stopped when she began to say Dumbledore's name. Even for her, the sound of it was too painful. She hurried on, "With things changing there, it's hard to know who will be trusted and who won't. The new Minister, Scrimgeour, is hard to read, Mr. Weasley says. We don't know whether he'll place his trust in the wrong people…. like, Umbridge for one." Hermione stood and folded her arms. "Of course, as soon as they realize you've left the Dursleys, they will be looking for you. Mr. Weasley says that they'll put a concerned face on it, but they all just want to have you where they can find you quickly. I doubt it's for your protection." She grimaced and touched a grimy surface. "I've gotten a little cynical, I think." She said it more to herself then to him, but he had heard her.

Harry nodded without looking up. "I'm afraid I've probably made an enemy of the new Minister, but I don't care very much. I have gotten a little wiser about it all though." He then raised his head. "I think we've all changed, Hermione. Maybe it isn't so bad being cynical. Maybe it will keep you safe. " He folded the paper and stuffed it into a knapsack that was packed and sitting by the bed. He stood and slipped his hands into trouser pockets and stared out the window. "I might even have to play games with Scrimgeour if needs be, to get what I want. It's the last thing I'll do though." He turned sad eyes to her and tried a wan smile. "I'm going to start off tomorrow. You know what I have to do."

She nodded and moved across the room to take his hand. "I will keep searching for any information that I can find. Hogwarts library will have all kinds of things on Godric Griffindor, Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw. It's bound too. What I've found may be of some use, too." She nodded at the papers still on the table.

"Hermione…" he began, and she shook her head.

"You don't have to say anything, Harry. Helping you is a way for me to do my part." She dropped her head, worried that the tears that were gathering in her eyes would get away from her. She took a deep breath and then looked up. "Just stay in the muggle world as long as you can. You're less well known here and you know how to manage here as well as the other. Keep in mind, many of those who are looking for you aren't very adept here."

"Did you manage Rita Skeeter?" he asked, finally, turning to her.

Hermione did smile at this and stood to join him at the window. "Yes. She's frightened, but gave in to my reasoning. She'll start writing little articles so that You-Know-Who can see them. I'll feed them to her every day or so. He's not bothered the Daily Prophet. I think he wants to use it to his advantage at some time, but he's left them alone." She knew Harry knew she was talking about Voldemort. "And of course, when and if it's all over, she wants an exclusive: The Life and Times of Harry Potter." She whispered the last.

He nodded again and didn't share her smile. "And Remus has agreed to be Secret-keeper for the Order?"

She nodded. "He will meet you at No.12 Grimmauld Place tonight at midnight. He says he will initiate you then. Ron and I and the twins have already been initiated."

Harry thought about that and frowned. "Why do I have to be initiated. I just wanted the house protected so that no one can use it besides the Order, particularly Mundungus Fletcher, Lestrange and of course, Snape," he hissed the word out.

Hermione's brow furrowed and she nodded again and tried to reassure him by saying, "It's okay, Harry. Remus says it will offer you protection. I know you don't want to go back there. It has bitter memories for all of us, but it will only take a few minutes and he insisted." She smiled at his wariness. "He's our friend, Harry. He cares about you. Let him do it. Do it for me."

"Alright. I'll meet him there. Will you tell him?"

She reached for and opened his hand, pressing something into it. "This is a belated birthday present; but only just, since your birthday was yesterday. Happy Seventeenth birthday, Harry," she said it with a slight gruffness to her voice. To avoid his eyes she leaned over and kissed him on the cheek.

He closed his hand over the item and didn't look at it before he wrapped his arms around her and held her. They hugged and it took a long time before he felt satisfied and let go. She understood and stepped back, then turned and moved to the door. She stopped and looked at the door and spoke without turning her head. "If you need me, night or day, I will be there in a heartbeat. I will come even if it means my life. Ginny sends her love." She said the words and then opened the door and left, closing it quietly behind her.

Harry sat on the edge of the bed and looked absently at the door. He knew it would be hard to see her leave and yet, felt comforted that his friends might not be at his side, but were clearly supporting him. He finally dropped his head and opened his fist. Laying in the middle of his palm, still warm from her touch, was a small time-turner.

"Hermione!" he gasped. He knew it was not the one that she had been given by the Ministry and had turned in at the end of term; it was smaller and glowed with an iridescence. It was lightweight and seemed to almost flutter in his hand. He held it up by the thin golden chain and studied it. He knew that somehow Hermione had taken it the day that they fought the Death Eaters at the Ministry; had kept it secret from everyone. _To have the presence of mind_, he thought_, and go against everything she thought right; to go against the rules, and take something like this…. _His heart ached suddenly with the thought of itHe slipped it in his trouser pocket and lay back on the bed pulling the inch thick stack of papers off the table towards him. The shouts, murmured voices and crying of babies that echoed in the halls and the smells wafting through the tenement were dim reminders of where he was.

The words drummed in his head in a marching cadence and made it difficult to sleep or think; over and over the words repeated themselves- The Locket, The Ring, The Cup, The Diary, the Snake- continually and incessantly played in his head. The words had been there playing in his head since he'd returned to the Dursleys and saw satisfaction in Vernon Dursley's eyes when he told them that Dumbledore was dead. Somehow it hadn't been real; Albus' death, and Snape's betrayal of the Headmaster. In order to keep from going mad, Harry had pushed those thoughts from his head and repeated the other words like a mantra.

He'd expected the Dursleys to turn him out immediately and in some ways had wished for it. The weight of Dumbledore's death had almost pushed the will to live out of him after it had finally sunk in up to its hilt. He could only hold onto what the Albus had told him; about his motives for killing Voldemort; it was a choice and he had made it. Harry knew that it was foolish to have told his aunt and uncle; reckless if they had actually thrown him to the streets, but he wanted them to know.

He half expected their reaction to the news. Albus, after all, had told them about his inheritance, about the gold. In exchange for his freedom, he had paid them, knowing that they would cause problems for him in the muggle world where he was not yet of age there. And so he had given, in writing, his share of Sirius money and in return he held in his possessions a letter written in his aunt Petunia's hand and signed by her, emancipating him.

Harry held the back of his hand against his forehead and began to read the papers Hermione had brought. She had included a week's worth of the Daily Prophets. One glance told him that he would have to read them later. Dumbledore's funeral, pictures of it and full page articles were splashed across the front pages of every one of them.

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Severus Snape sat at the long table and watched the Dark Lord study the plans of Azkaban. He barely noticed the icy cold, achingly empty atmosphere where the two Dementors floated nearby. They were conversing in their silent language, pointing and showing the evil wizard the complexities of the wizarding prison. While in the presence of the man, Snape was very careful to shield his mind, not even allowing intrusive, demanding images to enter it. Every now and again a face would swim to the surface and he would squash it back down into the depths.

"Leave my presence, Snape. Your thoughts feel like worms crawling around in my head. I cannot think for it," Voldemort snarled, without turning and waved a skeletal hand towards the door. Snape rose like a wisp of smoke, bowed slightly and left. He walked quickly to a secured room in the large dwelling so that he could sit and ponder in solitude.

The day was not a bright day. The place was crawling or literally_, 'floating_', he thought, with a snarling look on his own face, _with Dementors_. Any sun that shone was muffled by the thick vaporous fog they were giving off. Snape closed the window against the chill even though it was late summer and usually warm. He sat in a large overstuffed, mildly mildewed chair and steepled his fingers together and pressed them to his lips. He allowed his mind to drift to _that night_.

He had not anticipated that Potter would be on the tower, had not seen him there when he had run up the stairs and burst onto the scene. Potter had been after him much too quickly and Snape knew that he had been a witness. Dumbledore had anticipated something of the kind because the boy had obviously used his invisibility cloak and was probably paralyzed while he stood watching the whole scene. In some ways it had made it easier and in many ways more difficult. Snape felt the anger rise and indulged in it. Potter had almost ruined the whole plan.

And then there was Draco.

Snape could not lie to the Dark Lord and allow the boy to take credit. It had almost meant Draco's death. Snape had intervened and now the boy remained alive but perched precariously on the edge.

Snape also had to think over what he wanted to do about the Unbreakable Vow. Snape sipped from a glass of wine; a wine much finer than any that he owned. He did not heed the taste. Yes, Draco was a problem.

_He is not like his father; not as ambitious, not as driven, greedy or… courageous_, Snape decided. It had always amazed him how skillful Lucius had been at playing Voldemort. The boy was nothing like his father and Draco had left he, Snape, in a bind. The Dark Lord was not pleased with the Malfoys, definitely, not pleased at all.

Snape was also curious as to what the Dark Lord was hiding. Severus thought about it. It was clear that Voldemort wanted the Azkaban prison as his stronghold. Hi Death Eaters had been released, there was nothing there to keep his interest. To Snape, it didn't seem necessary as a place of defense, it sounded more like a place to he was using to hide something. Voldemort had far too many creatures that he was going to use to protect it. And as far as Snape was concerned the wizarding community was now at the mercy of the Dark Lord. Voldemort had no one to fear, and yet he was not content. On the contrary; in Snape eyes, Voldemort looked like a man who was afraid. _Afraid of what? _he asked himself.

He sat and stared at the grayed-out window and felt the mark on his arm blaze briefly_. Ah_, he thought somewhat miffed, _he calls me._ _Always at your beck and call; always your servant, Master_. He grimaced and heaved himself from the chair and headed back down the hallway. He entered as usual, head bent.

"Severus," Voldemort said curtly, his head down. He was studying some papers that lay on the table and pawing through them. "I will put you in charge of finding Potter. You know him better than anyone. Take the Malfoy boy with you. I do not wish to have him in my sight. When the time comes I will tell you when I need him. Perhaps his father will be amenable to doing several tasks for me if he knows you have his son." The figure at the end of the table raised his head and said calmly, "Kill the mother."

Snape felt the rate of his heartbeat rise just enough that he took a calming breath. "Yes, Master." He looked in the yellow eyes and knew that Bellatrix had been 'advising' the Dark Lord of what had taken place in his setting room weeks before. She had betrayed her own sister. "Master, she is a pureblood; she is a Black."

Voldemort curled his lip, what there was of it, and waved his hand. "What of it. I wish to punish Lucius for his stupidity. Perhaps he will think again before he makes foolish mistakes. After all, I am keeping his son alive and that is reward enough."

"Very well," Snape murmured and backed out of the room. He swept down the hall, feeling his jaw ache from gritting his teeth together. He was angry again and being angry always unnerved him. It was the one emotion that he had difficulty controlling.

He found the boy where he had left him, in a room in the same dwelling. Draco had been mute since the night at Hogwarts and appeared to have almost caved in. He was a shadow of his previous, boisterous, overconfident self. Snape stepped in without knocking and stared at him. Draco did not move from the seat at the window. Food sat on a plate before him and it remained untouched. He had not bathed, changed his clothing and had barely moved from his present position.

Snape wanted to direct his anger at him, but knew it to be useless. With a barely audible sigh he walked over, pushed the plate aside and lifted Draco from the chair. The boy's eyes turned to him vacantly.

"You must come with me. It is the Dark Lord's orders," Snape said, and waited. After a full minute, he took out his wand and waved it over the blond-headed boy and cleaned him and redressed him. He picked up a cloak from the nearby bed and draped it over him. Snape knew that the Dementors that hung about the grounds of the place were having an effect on Draco, as well as the shock from the night of the killing. What he wasn't sure about was what Voldemort had done to him that night, since he had not been allowed to be present. It was likely Voldemort had used Legilimency on him. Other than that Snape could only guess.

"We are going to go see your mother, Draco," Snape said calmly and noticed a flutter of the eyelids. _Ah, so you are in there somewhere_, Snape thought. _And where will you be if I kill your mother in front of you? _he wondered. "Come with me Draco." He pushed the boy towards the door and closed it quietly behind them. The two dark-cloaked figures emerged into a very dim late afternoon. Fog swirled around their feet and the sun that shone through was a pale ghost of its usual summer glory. There was even a slight chill in the air. Snape hurried Draco down a leaf littered walkway and through a very ancient gateway where they immediately disapparated.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two

McGonagal stood in the office of the Minister of Magic even though she had been invited to sit down. Scrimgeour was not looking at her, but instead, was sorting papers on his desk. Periodically, Percy Weasley slipped into the room along with several other assistants and laid more paperwork on the top of the fine polished mahogany surface. The man exploded in frustration, "For goodness sake, Weasley. Let me at least remove some of this confounded paper before you ply me with more!"

Percy jerked away in terror and stepped backward out of the room glancing at McGonagal once. She, on the other hand, acted as if he were not present. "As I was saying," she continued, her lips barely moving and frozen in a thin line on her face. "You are aware of the weakness in our defense that allowed the Death Eaters to enter Hogwarts and to kill…," she paused only briefly and changed direction. "Since it was Severus Snape that killed the Headmaster and not someone that forced their way in; it hardly seems reasonable to penalize all of the children by closing the school. There are many parents who can only show their support, and want to show their support of our side, by sending their children there. We have plugged the hole, Minister. Hogwarts is safe, if not safer than it has ever been."

The man finally cast a dour look at her and stood. "Very well, Minerva. I will allow Hogwarts to remain open, if only to rid myself of half the papers on this desk. Do you realize that I have letters here from two-thirds of the student's parents… ?" He stopped and dropped a paper he held high in his hand and leaned against the desk and glared. "Of course you do. You put them up to this!" He leaned over the desk and waited, studying her face.

She stared back. "I don't know what you are talking about Minister."

"Humpf!" he growled. "Alright, you have it your way. But I am not Cornelius Fudge and I will not bend my will to your every fancy. If there is even the slightest tremor coming from that school I will personally apparate out there and close and lock the front door myself!"

She bowed her head slightly and bent her rigid body even less in acknowledgement.

He continued, "I will send a formal letter making you Headmistress; at least until things calm down and a search for other qualified applicants can be made."

"I prefer to remain Deputy Headmistress, Minister; but thank you for the offer. I will of course, run the school to the best of my abilities."

"Who will you replace as Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher? It is a sensitive position right now, as you are more than aware. I could break one of my Aurors free and send them over."

"Thank you for your suggestion and I will consider it," she murmured. "I think perhaps that all of our disciplines are affected by current events and I have instructed the teachers to add a section of that subject in with their own material. Most are qualified to do that and if they do not have the expertise, it will be provided."

Scrimgeour grimaced and sat himself down again and leaned back. He waited until he thought that she would grow fatigued from standing, or uncomfortable with the silence before proceeding. It was a ploy he had used with his Aurors when he had managed the Department of Law Enforcement. It always worked- except for this time. McGonagal remained silent and motionless; it was obvious she was not intimidated.

He smiled, a smile that didn't reach his flinty dark eyes. "By god, Minerva, I wish you were fifty years younger! I would have had you at my side. I can see why old Dumbledore thought you were first rate." The words were solicitous and she knew it. She did not respond and his face became once again grim. "Very well! Open the school and be done with it."

Minerva left the room and stepped to an apparation-free zone and disapparated out of the building. Scrimgeour leaned back in the chair at his desk looking at the empty room and finally touched his desk with his wand. Seconds later a dozen or more rolls of parchment burst into little flames and vanished from sight. There was no longer any trace of the letters sent by the parents of Hogwarts students.

Without the incriminating evidence, he sat looking absentmindedly at the rest of the paperwork in front of him and realized that a folder remained dead-center on his desk. He'd left it that way as a reminder. He knew that if McGonagal was not true to her word by keeping things quiet at Hogwarts, he would have an advantage, he would call in a favor. Laying on the desk was a very thick folder that held the all the information ever gathered together on one, Mr. Harry Potter.

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Harry traveled north via London Cross station, but not by the Hogwarts Express. He traveled as a muggle, dressed as a muggle. Hermione had been right, very few people in the crowded trains noticed the rather thin, blond-headed boy with the dark glasses that curled into a sleep and appeared to sleep for the entire journey. He would always step on at the last moment and wake just in time to follow the bulk of the crowd off the train and into the station.

He would walk behind tourists in their banana-colored Bahama shorts and shirts, or those who wore blouses with tortured colors of lime green or candy-apple red; their legs always glimmered pale like the underbelly of a fish. They'd stop unexpectedly to aim their cameras at everything that stood in their paths and everyone in their wake would be brought up short. Harry didn't think that even Voldemort would be caught dead facing this lot and he shadowed some of those with wider girth so as to remain unseen.

When awake he would eat, read and study the map. When asleep he would dream of the night on the tower and in his mind replay the scene over and over. If not that dream, then his unconscious mind would travel back through the pensieve and he would be there with Dumbledore. The memories of what Dumbledore had shown him took on a sharpness of detail. Harry would wake and the face of one of the Gaunts would be floating at the edge of his vision, or he would have a dream about the trip to the cave and lake. It would rouse him from a deep slumber and he could actually feel the hands of the Inferi pulling hungrily at him.

Dumbledore's words sprang to his ears and he was repeating them when he woke, "I'm not worried Harry, I am with you." He had spoken the words just before they apparated from the cave to Hogsmead and Harry woke mumbling them.

He woke from one such dream and hastily turned to the window in the train carriage, forcing himself to take deep breaths and calm himself. An older woman seated across from him noticed the anguish on his face and heard his weak cry. She looked up from her book and stuck a postcard in it to keep her place. Harry knew she was looking at him and refused to meet her gaze.

"Are you alright?" the woman asked kindly.

Harry pulled his cap down and nodded without turning. "Yes, just a bad dream."

"Oh, I used to have those when I was a child," the lady said. "Nasty things."

They were in the compartment alone and Harry decided that he could be polite and not cause harm. He was feeling lonely. He looked at her. She was a large woman, not fat but just large. It put him in mind of Madam Maxime, the Beaubatons Headmistress. This woman, however, was gray haired and her skin was wrinkled and creased like an elephant. She wore a pair of pince-nez and stared at him over them.

"Not that I'm calling you a child, dear," she said, and smiled.

"I'm alright now," Harry answered.

They chatted about the weather, the trip and the small village the train was stopping at. Harry remained vague about his journey. The older woman caught on and changed subjects. " You have a look about you as if you had just finished school and were on a holiday trip. But you don't look happy about it dear. I should warn you, it is lovely in the north, you know." She continued to talk and Harry leaned back and allowed his mind to drift. Several days before he had met with Lupin at No.12 Grimmauld Place.

He stood in front of the house, not visible yet between the two other houses on the street. The lamps on the street were bright and he was staying the shadow of a large bush. He waited for a half hour, not moving, hardly breathing and watched. After waiting, he hurried forward, envisioned the street number in his head and ran quickly up the steps to the door. His hand was on the knob when it turned. It was opened by Lupin who ushered him in and down the hall to the sitting room with just the tip of his wand lit. Harry could barely see in the darkened hallway and noticed that Mrs. Black's portrait was covered with the well-worn black curtain. He hurried past in silence, not wanting to wake her.

Remus lit a lamp when they were finally in the sitting room and turned to him. "Can I offer you tea, Harry?" he asked, sitting in a large leather chair. He looked slightly better than he had weeks before at Dumbledore's funeral. Harry nodded and sat opposite him. "I've checked the house and its clear. There is no one here and it doesn't look like anybody's been here for awhile. I reset the charms on the doors and used the same encantation Albus used so that you could enter." The gray eyes came up and studied him.

Harry felt mildly comforted by the sight of his old professor and his parents old friend. "I didn't have a chance to tell you that I think you and Tonks…." he stopped and Remus smiled slightly with just the corners twisted up under his moustache. "Well, I'm glad you're together."

Lupin nodded and picked up his cup. "Thank you, Harry. We don't have much time and I think it's best to get to business right away."

"Alright," Harry answered reluctantly. There were many things he wanted to discuss with Lupin, but he hated being in the house and he wanted to be his way."

Lupin seemed to know and understand what was on his mind. "Hermione's told me you're on your way to Godrics Hollow. It's in the northland, and a bit tricky to find." He reached in his pocket and withdrew and small parchment. "She also told me she taught you the pointing spell?"

Harry remembered the spell he had used to get through the maze at the Tri-wizards tournament. He accepted the papers and there were some numbers scrawled on it.

"Just touch the paper when you're doing the spell and it will point the direction out for you. When you get to the village ask the muggles where the most haunted place is. They'll point you to the house and when you enter and cross the threshold you'll walk through the portal into our world. Your parent's house seems to have left a legacy even in that world. It still has a residue of dark magic that surrounds it. Don't be surprised if you feel it and it makes you sick for awhile." He frowned and shook his head slightly and then continued. "Now, I've taken the liberty to place a few people along the way and they will look out for you and send me back information."

Harry started to protest, "Remus, I'd prefer…"

"Yes, yes Harry, I know." Lupin smiled again. "You want to do it your way. But you have asked me to take on the position just vacated as Secret Keeper for the Order and I take it- to be its' leader?" The eyebrows were raised in a question and Harry nodded. "Well then I have made a decision to add a little more security for you."

"What the purpose of initiating me into the Order?" Harry asked so he would not be tempted to argue.

"It provides more protection. Our messages are protected and are transmitted only to other Order members," Lupin explained.

"What about….Snape," Harry asked coldly. "He was initiated. Will he be able to intercept our messages?"

Lupin looked at him, leaned forward and then looked down to study his teacup. "I believe that you should focus on Voldemort, Harry. Leave Snape up to me."

Harry watched Lupin studying his teacup and say the words as if he were just chatting with him. He also saw his fingers clasp the teacup and whiten, Lupin's face did not change. Harry wondered if, at any minute, the teacup would not shatter into pieces from the firm grip. There was silence for several minutes and then Lupin let go of the cup and looked up. "The initiation is very simple and will only take a moment. Obviously, I have already performed the Fidelius charm to make myself Secret keeper. Is there anything else before I proceed?"

Harry pondered his question. He had told no one of the Horcruxes and his mission with Dumbledore to the cave. If he were to be killed or disabled, there would be no one that would know where to begin. And then he thought about Lupin and how he had infiltrated the lair of the most wicked and evil werewolf he'd ever seen; Fenrir Greyback. _Would it be safe to tell him? _he wondered.

"Are you going back to Fenrir?" he asked.

"Can't Harry. Fenrir saw me at Hogwarts fighting the Death Eaters. He got a good look at me. It wouldn't be safe. As a matter of fact, I will have to be very careful to not stray into his territory," Lupin answered.

Thinking twice on the matter, Harry decided that Lupin had enough on his plate and kept silent.

"Are you ready?" Lupin asked.

Harry was about to shake his head, his mind going in another direction when he realized Lupin meant to initiate him into the Order. "Oh, uh, yes. What shall I do?" he prepared to rise to his feet.

"Well we shouldn't tarry any longer Harry," Lupin said. "If you need me then send word. Tonks says she showed you how to do it."

Harry remembered having gotten off the Hogwarts express after Tonks had found him and released him from the paralysis that Draco Malfoy had placed on him. She had then sent her Patronus to Dumbledore. He nodded and started towards the door, stopped and turned back. "Remus there is something that you can do for me. Dumbledore had a ring, a gold one with a black stone cracked down the middle that was sitting on a table in his office. I don't know where its got to but I'd like to know that you have it and its hidden somewhere. Be sure and not touch it," he added.

Remus looked up from his chair and paused for a moment. His eyes roamed over Harry's face. "Was that what burned and scarred his hand?"

Harry didn't answer.

"He never did say what happened," Lupin mumbled and then with greater clarity said, "Yes, I'll go look for it straight away- tonight."

"Keep it safe, Remus," Harry said, and turned and left the building.

He was remembering his request to Lupin and wondering if Remus had found the ring when the old woman sitting across from him on the train asked her question again?"

"Harry, do you get off at the next stop?" she asked.

"How…how do you know my name is Harry?" he countered, suddenly very wary.

She shrugged innocently and said, "When you were dreaming. You said, 'I'm not worried Harry, I am with you.' Those were the exact words. I took it to mean that you was Harry and someone else was talking to you."

"Oh…oh yes, well it was the name of a friend I had when I was little, " Harry gulped back the fear. "My name is John."

"I see." She smiled broadly. "Well, I was saying that we're about to reach Little Hangleton. That's a hop-skip and a jump from Godrics Hollow. Not sure if you were going on to Bobbington or stopping off at Little Hangleton? There's a number of tiny villages in between, but a fair nuisance if you don't get off at the right stop to go to one or another."

Harry felt his jaw drop. He knew what Little Hangleton was. He'd never been there in person but had been there with Dumbledore in the pensieve. _How could I have missed that? _he wondered and pulled the map from his pack again. He hurriedly unfolded it and glanced at the places he had circled with his quill in the dirty, squalor of the London flat.

_Yes, yes, there it is_, he thought to himself as he followed the train line with a dirty fingernail. And not far, in a succession of villages, like beads strung on a necklace, all mapped along a single line were little dots and on one were the faded words, Godrics Hollow.

"That's where I'm headed," she said as the train slowed and she gathered her parcels around her. Her meaty fist closed on a large bag with an umbrella stuffed between the straps.

"Where's that again?" Harry asked jerking his head up.

"Little Hangleton," she answered and heaved herself to her feet. "It's been nice chatting with you John. You have a nice holiday."

He watched her ample backside disappear out the compartment door and he rose unsteadily and followed.

-------------------------------

Somewhere in London in a mansion that sat in a secluded private park filled with magnificent trees, a woman stood in the sitting room of that mansion. She was dressed in a long white gown, her pale skin and white hair almost the same shade as the dress. Rubies sparkled at her slim neck. Standing in front of her was a man with black hair and a sallow complexion holding his arm around her son's neck. The boy was staring at her, but vacantly as if he were lost to the world. The man was holding his wand on her.

"Severus," she said. "What are you doing? What's happening?" She eyed her son and took a step forward. He shook his head slightly and she stopped.

"Your sister has betrayed you and told the Dark Lord of our vow. The only way to break that vow is to kill you," Snape said it very slowly, with his arm held out rigidly in front of him.

"You wouldn't…c..couldn't do that," she said, breathlessly and then held her head high. "Not in front of my son, Snape."


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter Three The Polyjuice Potion

"No?" Snape said with a sneer. "I should kill him on principal alone, Narcissa. You've gotten us both in a fix and you would deserve to watch him die."

"I…I don't know what you mean," she spoke and the haughtiness drained from her voice.

"You should be very wary of who you are speaking to Narcissa." Snape let Draco go and pushed him towards a chair. He did so gently and waited until the boy sat and then turned back to his mother. She once again took a step forward and Snape put his hand out to stop her. "Let us discuss this before you fawn all over him." He glanced over at Draco and then back to her. "Besides I don't think he would notice your caresses, you see he has been with the Dark Lord alone."

He noticed she took in a sharp breath, her eyes darting to her son's face. She remained silent but she was clenching her hands together in obvious distress. "What is it we need to discuss Severus?"

He gazed around the room at the silk curtains and the expensive furnishings. He then found a stiff straight-backed chair and sat down. He laid his wand in his lap and covered it with his own pale fingers. "Sit down."

She sat immediately, facing him, looking pale. He thought that she had the appearance of a Greek statue cut of fine marble. Her neck was long, her hair almost white and the same as the shade of her skin; she was, dressed in white. If she had remained motionless, he knew that people would have been fooled into believing her to be a goddess wrought of stone.

"I have come to find out Narcissa that it was the Dark Lord who paid you a visit one evening several weeks ago. I understand that you were accompanied by your sister, Bellatrix." Snape watched her absorb the news. "He has found it safer to go around disguised as….me. You see I've found it necessary to produce large cauldrons full of this potion called Polyjuice Potion. That is neither here nor there, but it has pricked my curiosity you see. Anyway, I understand that you made an Unbreakable Vow with him that evening concerning Draco. I also understand that there was another particular issue that you were aware of- concerning a particular plan- that I think has now been completed if I am not mistaken. I believe the plan was to assassinate Albus Dumbledore using your son."

The paleness of her skin seemed to grow even whiter as he spoke. She was sitting very straight, prim and proper in a chair, her hands clasped in her lap. As he continued to talk her eyes grew ever wider and finally the hands relaxed and she swooned forward out of the chair.

Snape anticipated the problem and stood and caught her as she fell. He eased her to the floor and used his wand to spray a fine mist of water over the pale features. The moment she opened her eyes he spoke the words, "Legilimency."

Several minutes later, he helped her back to her seat and the two of them were again facing one another. She had one hand to her throat and the other held a glass of amber liquid. She took a sip, and a moment later there was a pale blush returning to her cheeks.

Snape watched her and sipped his own brandy. He had learned everything her thought that she knew, but to be certain he waited until the Veritiserum took effect. He saw the slight change in her eyes first. "Now tell me Narcissa, the Dark Lord would not have trusted Draco to take care of such a sensitive and dangerous task such as assassination. He would never of had a chance to kill Dumbledore if he had not found him in a weakened condition, and I daresay it would have probably been impossible even then. What was Draco's purpose?"

Narcissa stared at him and said clearly, "To find the Room of Requirement at Hogwarts. The girl with the pimples on her face told him about it and Potter's little group. It was only by chance that he discovered the nature of the room. He had gone into your office to find out what his marks were on his O.W.L.s before he left school at the end of term. He wanted to change the marks if he found that he had gotten anything under Outstanding. He had left your office and was carrying the paperwork when he heard someone. He happened to be on the same floor as the Room of Requirement and he was looking for a place to hide the document. He hadn't had time to change the scores. It was then he found the cabinet that was later used as an entry point."

Snape pondered the answer. "Was there another purpose?"

Her eyes never wavered and she answered with a dull monotone voice, "He was to kill Dumbledore."

"What else do you know? Was there more to the plan?" Snape was growing impatient. There was nothing that he knew or that she was saying that was new. He had gotten the entire Unbreakable Vow word-for-word, she had told him the plan to enter Hogwarts and kill Dumbledore. How they had found the Headmaster when he had not been in his office but up in the tower, Narcissa was not able to say. Nor could she tell him what happened after, since Draco had been in his care since that night; the night he had spent at the Dark Lord's manor and his double, the Dark Lord himself, had gone on a mission.

Snape gulped the brandy and set the glass down. Narcissa was still staring at him blankly, much as her son was doing. "What else have you overheard from Lucius or Draco?" He knew it to be a vague question and it was unlikely that this woman could tell him anymore.

"He needed to kill someone to make something," Narcissa breathed. "He had to kill a strong wizard. Something about a Horacrux. I don't know what that is."

Snape forgot to breath, felt the room spin and his hands grow moist. He stared at her and his mouth was so dry he could not speak. _A Horacrux!_

"He was having the castle watched and Dumbledore followed. They put the Imperius curse on a woman in the village; some woman called Rosmerta," Narcissa's lip curled slightly. Even under the Veritiserum she was arrogant. Snape's head came up and he listened to her recitation through his shock. "She immediately sent a message that Dumbledore and the boy-Potter- had apparated into Hogsmeade. She said that Dumbledore was injured and was asking for you. There were a number of spies in the village."

"What more do you know," Snape gasped.

She shook her head slowly, "Nothing. Bella told me about the fight, about Draco not being able to kill Dumbledore. I was sick with worry. I knew he couldn't do it; not my Draco. He's not like his father, I don't want him to be like his father; so cold." She stopped. "I was afraid I'd never see him again. I was afraid that because he had failed he would be killed." She stopped and pressed her lips together tightly.

Snape staggered to his feet. He finally had the entire story, could picture the events in his head. _A Horacrux_! he thought to himself and then stared at Draco, who remained seated immobilized and silent. After a moment he raised his wand turned to Narcissa and sat quietly, "OBLIVIATE MOMENTARIUM." He erased the last forty-five minutes from her memory.

He pulled Draco to his feet very gently, the Veritiserum was wearing off. He watched until her eyes were clear and tears began to rain down the porcelain cheeks. "I have been sent to kill you Narcissa. If you are wise I would disappear."

"My son," she reached for Draco.

"He is lost to you now Narcissa," Snape said, not unkindly. "It were better if he had died, for he will soon be. If you value your life you will flee. If I see you I will do as the Dark Lord bid me do and kill you on sight."

He took Draco by the arm and disapparated on the doorstep of the mansion leaving her on her knees in her immaculate white gown, sobbing silently.

----------------------

Harry walked along a dusty road until he was out of sight of the train station. He'd seen the large woman join some other people on the platform and he felt better. Remus had told him that there were people looking out for him, but Harry knew that it was likely Voldemort would also be making every effort to find him as well, whether it be muggle or wizard. He stopped and studied the terrain. He was now on the outskirts of Little Hangleton. He intended to make Godrics Hollow his goal, but since he was in the area that he had seen in the pensieve with Dumbledore, he was inclined to have a look around first. And, something was drawing him inexorably towards the small village.

_I know I probably won't find the Gaunt house_, he decided. _Dumbledore said it was in ruins when he went back to it. _He tried to remember everything he had seen and had been told and he wasn't as interested in that house as he was in the Riddle house. With a objective in mind, he began walking again.

The small village was not far from the train station. It looked like it hadn't changed in a hundred years. It still had small cottages pushing against the cobbled street. The streets themselves were narrow and had been built for horse-driven carts. Old signs hung from outstretched wrought-iron arms and called out such names as the Dancing Pony or the Black Boar.

The cool, shaded interior of a cafe beckoned to him when he looked in through the window. He wandered into the dark interior, thankful for the anonymity the dark afforded him. With food and something to drink, he rested and watched the patrons.

Being in the muggle world on his own was not quite the same as being in his own world. He'd not gone far alone in the wizarding world. He'd wandered happily through Diagon Alley on his own. It wasn't quite the same. It wasn't until this very moment that Harry realized that he was truly alone, cut off and among strangers. It made him feel uneasy.

He finished his meal and stepped out into the hazy afternoon sun did not warm him like an ordinary August sun normally would. He checked the street and the few cars that rolled along the main avenue and then stepped along the street. He wasn't sure how best to approach someone for directions; and so, allowed his feet to direct him.

The town was built on a gentle slope that ran vertically on a small grade. Harry's began to feel the strain in his legs as he wandered up the street. People were not particularly friendly as he passed. They would either turn their backs, quickly step inside and close their doors or turn to their neighbor and appear to be deep in conversation. Harry could understand. Even in the muggle world, there was an air of disorder, even danger, that seemed to pervade every hamlet and town; like a spreading cancer.

Harry realized he didn't have to ask where the Riddle house might be. At the end of town, almost at the top of the hill, there was a darkened gloomy graveyard. Directly above it on a knoll was a large house. It had fallen into disrepair and the garden was overgrown. Windows were blank staring eyes surrounded by the grayed out walls. Harry believed that if he had been a casual passerby he would have looked at the house and thought it haunted.

He stepped up to what had once been the front entrance and walkway and pulled aside dead vines entwined over the brick façade of the gate. The name Riddle embellished the brick in a fine scrolled wrought iron grillwork.

He looked up at the house with his green eyes and abstractly reached for the scar on his forehead. Some leftover residue was making it tingle. He knew that Voldemort had been there.

"I wouldn't go in there, if I was you," a voice said.

He had been so absorbed in studying the details of the old house, he was startled and very aware that he had not been guarded enough. He turned and saw the woman from the train.

"You're following me," he said. "Who sent you?"

"A friend," she answered and reached into her basket.

He had his wand in his hand without realizing he'd reached for it. He pointed it at her and stepped back into the shade of a tall hedge.

She smiled and withdrew her hand and waited.

"Who?"

"A friend," she answered. "I can't say more than that."

"Friend or foe, I don't want to be followed," Harry said. "Do you know who I am?"

"You said your name was, John," she shrugged and reached for a strand of gray hair that dangled on the side of her face. "I'll be on my way, but I just wanted you to know that everyone here avoids that house if they can. There were some murders that took place many a year ago and an old caretaker disappeared and was never heard from again."

"Who sent you?' he asked again and lowered his arm.

"The Minister," she answered quietly.

"The Minister of Magic?" Harry asked angrily. _How did he find me? _he wondered.

She looked at him and smiled again. "The Prime Minister. Actually it was his aid who put me onto you. Shacklebolt is his name, new assistant to the Minister."

Harry didn't think he had heard her correctly. "Shacklebolt?"

"Kingsley Shacklebolts the name," she answered and put her arm through the straps on the basket. "He contacted me. This village has been of interest to someone for many a year. I keep my ear to the ground," she said nodding her head slightly. "He paid me a visit he did. Personally. It was an honor I told him, to serve the Minister." She turned and started walking. "I wouldn't go in there if I was you. But if you do…be careful."

Harry didn't stop her. He thought about her words. The Prime Minister! The muggle minister, or more likely Kingsley Shacklebolt was having him followed. He turned back to the house with the shade of evening casting its pall upon the face and he started stepping over the tangled grasses and vegetation on the path. He knew immediately that magic had been done on the premises, he could feel it and it made him shudder. It was dark magic and the smell of old death crawled up his nose as he pushed open the door.

---------------------

Hermione Granger and Ron Weasley met their friends on the Hogwarts Express. They were the members of the old D.A. Each held a coin in their hands. Ginny Weasley, Luna Lovegood, Neville Longbottom, Dean Thomas, Hannah Abbott whose parents were killed the year before, Seamus Finnegan, Ernie McMillan and others were crowded along the corridor of the train; to many to cram into a small compartment.

"We're Dumbledore's Army," Ginny Weasley said. "That means we have to gather together again this year and decide how we can help Harry. He's gone to fight Voldemort."

Several people looked at each other uneasily and appeared nervous. Neville stood straighter and glared at them. He stood beside Luna and Ginny at one end with his back to the train car door. The car was occupied entirely by D.A. members.

"If anyone wants out they should leave now," Hermione said. "What we have to talk about needs to be private. That's for security measures."

"You all got your letters from McGonagal," Ron said. "We won't have a proper Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher this year so we're on our own. We need to enlist the help of the third and fourth years. The First years are to be left out since they can't do any spells." He looked at Hermione periodically while he spoke as if to get her reassurance. It was clear he didn't like speaking in front of people, his face had turned the color of an old blood stain.

Collin Creevey stood by his brother Dennis. He spoke up, "Do you have a plan?"

Hermione nodded. "We need to think about how we can create a diversion and keep the teachers occupied so that some of us can slip away. We all need to cover for one another." She waited again for someone to speak. When they didn't she said, "I don't want to have to tell you that lives hang in the balance if someone should talk. And if you don't feel you're ready…don't have the skills, then you can leave and there won't be any hard feelings. It's not like we're dueling each other in school. This is the real thing. There's a possibility you may even have to face a Death Eater or Voldemort himself."

Many of them nodded. They knew that Hermione, Ron, Luna, Neville and Ginny had already done just that. The news had been on the front page of the Daily Prophet for weeks in a never ending litany of old stories and gossip. They even looked at Luna Lovegood with some respect.

"Alright let's break into groups. Hermione and I will come around and give you your assignments. Ginny is in charge of security, Hermione is in charge of research and Luna and Neville will discuss surveillance with their group." Ron stepped around Dean Thomas and moved to the other end of the car. "I will see a volunteer from each house, Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff and Gryffindor in my group. We're going to deal with the people left in Slytherin."

The train rolled into the night and the woman with the food trolley knocked on the door of the car and was allowed in long enough for people to by some pumpkin pasties and juice and then was escorted from the car.

Hogwarts Express rolled into the station with an empty platform excluding one lone figure. All lights had been extinguished and only the moon illuminated the half giant that stood waiting. As the train pulled in, prefects hopped off and guided their groups down the platform admonishing each person to silence. The normal hustle and bustle of the end of the journey had been stifled.

"Put out tha' light," Hagrid's deep muffled voice, broke the silence. "Follow me."

Several Prefects had gathered a group of First years and herded them his way. This was a smaller group than was normally seen on the platform at the beginning of term. Several students gasped at the sight of the half giant and were jabbed in the ribs by others who were so frightened that they clung together like grapes on a vine.

The older students moved quickly to the carriages under the bright light of the Moon of the Long Grasses. If prying eyes had been searching, they would not have found the boy with the dark hair and glasses. He was somewhere a long ways away and planting one foot on each creaking stair that led to the floor above. Harry Potter was in the Riddle Mansion.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter Four

The summer days had very quickly wound down and the evenings were cooling off because of the ever increasing mist that seemed to be invading the countryside. Even at Hogwarts, Hagrid was building a fire early in the evenings out-of-doors and roasting his supper beside the burned out ruins of his home. He was rebuilding it brick-by-brick, stick-by-stick, and sometimes the figure of a rather thin person would come from the school after evening meals and she would help him with the rebuilding. McGonagall had never been much for architecture but then Hagrid's house had always been more charming because of its' eccentricities. As a result, the newly built hut was complete; his old one would be covered by winter snows and then demolished the following Spring. He would have shelter for the winter and he was satisfied.

Sometimes, two other people joined McGonagall. Ron and Hermione would make their way down to the hut and sit beside the camp fire. Mostly they would talk in hushed voices and then stop altogether when their eyes happened to land on the white tomb of Albus Dumbledore sitting starkly against the dark greens of the forest. Thankfully the early evening mist hid that from their eyes.

The evenings were chilly and gloomy, as were their spirits. Ron had not heard from Harry for a fortnight, nor had anyone in the Order. They generally did not discuss Order business even though McGonagall and Hagrid were still doing extra work along with their duties at Hogwarts. Since Lupin had taken over as the leader of the Order, he had been seen at Hogwarts a few times and they were able to get some news which was not the usual tripe printed in the Daily Prophet.

At a certain point, just after Ron and Hermione arrived at school, they'd all sat together and Remus had told them that Harry had disappeared. Lupin reminded them that it might be a positive sign. If they couldn't find him, possibly Voldemort and his Death Eaters wouldn't either. Ron and Hermione had expected this but had to act as if it was news. They talked afterwards about how badly they felt about fooling Remus and Professor McGonagall. After all, they had made the plans with Harry when they had all attended Bill and Fleur Delacour's wedding.

Now, Hermione sat at the fire warming her hands and half-heartedly listened to Hagrid going on about the new first year students and classes and pondered what lay in her pocket. It was a letter from Harry, only just arrived. She had wanted to share it with McGonagall and the others; with Ron and Ginny, until she had read the contents. Now, she was struggling with herself.

Just the year before she had taunted and nagged at Harry for trusting the Potions book written by the Half Blood Prince; had been angry with him for having gone against the rules and using it in Potions class to getting underserved praise for the work that was not his. She had been certain it was written by a girl and Harry had been sure it was a boy's. It seemed to them that he had been right, it was a male that covered the pages with marks; it had been Snape. Harry told them that Snape admitted on his flight from Hogwarts after killing Dumbledore.

Hermione chided herself many times after that night for always having to be right, for always having to follow the rules when Harry was for breaking them if he thought it necessary. He had been right about Snape and she had been involved in thinking about Ron and Lavender Brown and they had all ignored him.

She felt the guilt once again. She had wanted to believe that Snape was on their side. To believe that he could betray Hogwarts and Dumbledore shook the world under her feet and left her feeling like she was clinging to a cliff over a bottomless chasm. She had to make the feeling go away. In order to do that she had to do everything in her power to help her friend. _You have to stop being naive, Hermione, _she told herself, _It's going to get you killed_.

She fingered the document in her pocket and thought about the realization she'd had over the summer. She realized that there were things more important than even school; there was Harry and keeping him alive. Voldemort was after him. After more than five years it was time to be serious about it. They were all in danger; but no one more than he. It had never been more clear than the morning of Dumbledore's funeral when she watched the Headmaster's body being entombed. If such a powerful wizard could be killed then they were all vulnerable, something she had really never given credence too.

Hermione studied the faces of the people sitting around the fire. She was questioning what it was all about, what her life was going to be like if she turned her back on her friends; something she didn't think she could do even if it might mean her life.

She fingered the letter and studied the flames leaping from the logs in the fire at her feet and thought about it. What she held of value, her principles and her beliefs were also was in jeopardy. Harry was asking something of her; something she wasn't sure she was capable of doing and he wasn't even giving her a reason for doing it. He not only wanted her to break the rules, he wanted her to commit a criminal act.

But criminal acts were taking place all around them and they were losing the battle against Voldemort who seemed to move through the wizarding world like the figure of Death itself. Everywhere they turned, another person, another group of wizards had been killed, disappeared or in someway compromised. Like Stan Shunpike, they were being imprisoned without trial. People were afraid and turning against each other, doing Voldemort's work for him. No one knew if their neighbor had been Imperiused. She was terrified. People she didn't know were dying and it hadn't touched her. Then, suddenly it was people she did know that were dying and she didn't want it to be Harry, any of the Weasley's or her friends. She didn't want it to be anyone else; she wanted it to stop.

She glanced over at McGonagall and then finally made up her mind. Giving excuses, she bid them goodnight and left them at the campfire to return to the school. She made excuses for Ron not to follow.

She passed the Memorial in the mist and didn't notice that a spectral dark figure was standing in front of it. They were on opposite sides of the white stone which towered between them. Like two ships passing in the night, neither was aware of the other.

The other person who stood in front of the tomb was tall, dressed in black robes; his hair hung lifeless around his face.. He stood still and contemplated the words engraved on the face of the stone. It was Snape.

Snape listened to the muffled voices of the people at the campfire. He gazed at the stone without speaking. His eyes shifted once to the white towers that caught the last rays of the setting sun and pierced the gray swirls of mist like dismembered golden fingers reaching into the indigo sky above. Darkness came quickly on the floor of the valley beneath the shroud of mist and Snape moved away silently through the grass, his robe trailing behind him. He walked with his head bent and his shoulders sagging.

If someone were watching they would wonder in astonishment at the presence of the murderer visiting his victim's grave. They might wonder even more at his demeanor. He did not walk with the familiar aristocratic gait of the Potion's Master Harry and Ron and Hermione knew. This man walked like a man bent with grief and sorrow; a man in pain. He disappeared into the lane that ran near the forest and past the gates where the two Boars stood as guardians. He walked through the gates without appearing to be troubled by the incantations and protective spells guarding the boundaries. He was still taking long slow strides into the darkness when he disappeared.

Inside the castle, Hermione made her way to the another set of guardians. These were the gargoyles that guarded the staircase to Dumbledore's office which now sat empty. She looked up and down the corridor and then spoke softly, hoping that no one had changed the passwords since his death.

But they had been changed. Hermione knew that McGonagall was not using the office and had sealed it. She would have also changed the words needed to get in and they weren't going to be the name of some kind of sweet.

Hermione stepped from foot to foot and chewed on her lip in anxiety. _How to get in? _she pondered_. You didn't make it easy, Harry. _She talked to him silently as she studied the gargoyles and thought about it and tried again. After the third try, the staircase swung wide and allowed her admittance. She smiled to herself. She liked solving puzzles.

Actually, what she was trying to do was not think about the task that lay ahead. She knew that Harry was asking her because there were few others with enough skills to get past McGonagall's seals on the door, take the objects and make sure the portraits on the walls did not tell what they had seen.

The door was another formidable obstacle when she finally got to the top of the stairs. McGonagall had transfigured the doors into vault doors that had a mouth. When she arrived in front of it, it startled her by asking her a question.

In a very low, grumbling voice, like boulders grinding together, it said, "This office is in a restricted section. If you wish to pass you must answer the questions set before you correctly. Any false answer will set off an alarm throughout the school and you will immediately be apprehended. Are you ready to answer the first question?"

Hermione swallowed hard and thought about retreating down the stairs. The door must have surmised her intentions and declared, "If you leave without answering the first question an alarm will sound and you will immediately be apprehended."

_Well that takes care of that_, she thought, _I'm trapped_. "Very well, ask your first question," she said clearly and wrung her hands. This was her worst nightmare come true. Ever since she had studied boggarts in Lupin's class she had been aware of her intense fear of failure. Now she knew that it would all come to an end if the door sounded the alarm; she would most certainly be expelled for trying to break into the office. At the least, she would betray Professor McGonagall's trust.

The doors spoke, "In the book, Hogwarts: A History, on page 4,678, it states that Tilly Toke was the hero for the Ifracombe incident…."

Hermione listened to the question and her anxiety disappeared and was replaced with excitement. _I know this! _she thought. _I can do this. Oh Harry, you'd be so proud of me!_

She answered all 114 questions correctly and the doors opened. Using the same substance Draco had used the night of Dumbledore's death, a substance he had bought from Fred and George Weasley, Hermione spread the instant darkness out so that she was the only one in the room who could see with just the tip of her wand shining. She grasped the two objects and was surprised when they gave way easily. She had half expected both to have a sticking charm on them. With one glance over her shoulder she hurried from the room, a feeling of triumph pumping adrenaline through her.

It was only the next morning at breakfast when McGonagall stood and faced the morning assembly of students and pronounced that Dumbledore's office had been broken into and two objects of great value taken, that Hermione was suddenly feeling the throes of guilt. She tried to arrange her face to look as surprised as Ron and everyone else at the Gryffindor table, but it was almost impossible when McGonagall's eyes swept the room and rested on her.

Hermione tried to quell her feelings by thinking about the letter and what Harry had told her. The evening before after stealing the objects she had followed his instructions explicitly. It had not been hard going to the seventh floor after the theft, walking past the hidden door to the Room of Requirement and saying three times, "I need to hide something, I need to hide something…" The door appeared instantaneously.

She walked into the room just as Harry described it and had seen the endless clutter and stacks of things that Harry had seen when he had hidden the Potion's book. She found her way through the alleys and found the statue with the wig and the tiara just where he said it would be. She glanced at the Half Blood Prince's potion's book hidden in the cage along with the bones and dropped Godric Gryffindor's sword and the Sorting Hat in beside it.

She took two steps away from it and then turned back and picked up the book and started flipping through it, noting the date of publishing at the beginning.

"Half Blood Prince!" she whispered in disgust. "This book is too old to be yours Snape. It had to have been your mother's. She was the brilliant potion's maker wasn't she? And you took credit for her work and added a piece of your own foul magic!" She was thinking of the spell that Harry had accidentally used on Draco Malfoy. "Yes, that one is more like you, isn't it Snape? I don't think Harry believed me when I said it was your mother's."

She contemplated the book resting in her hand, looking at it as if it could speak and answer her questions.

Once picked up, she found she could not easily put it down again. She had never willingly put down any book without reading it first. She read the entire book, handwritten passages and all within the hour. Hermione sat the book back in the exact position she found it and left. She was more convinced then ever that a woman had written it and that Harry was wrong, even when Snape claimed to be the Half Blood Prince. The conundrum mystified her and helped her stare back into McGonagall's cool stare the next morning at breakfast with at least some degree of aplomb.

"Blimey, Hermione," Ron exclaimed. Most of the students were dumbfounded by the news of the theft. "Who could've? I mean do you think there are Death Eaters in Hogwarts?"

McGonagall raised her voice to hush the crowd of whispering, panicked students. "We believe that this is not the work of Death Eaters or He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. We believe his is the work of a student." She looked again at Hermione and then her gaze wandered away. "If we find the student responsible there will be dire consequences for such actions. However, if the items are returned to my office today before evening meal I will not take any further action. You are now dismissed and may go to your classes. "

They all started to stumble away from the house tales and head for classes when Hermione heard McGonagall's voice call out to her. "Miss Granger may I have a word with you please?"

"Hermione, do you know what this is about?" Ron asked with Ginny peering at her quizzically.

"I really don't." She tried to sound innocent and her lie seemed to satisfy Ron. She wasn't sure that would be true for McGonagal.

Ginny on the other hand studied her face and then turned slowly and packed a bag and whispered without moving her lips. "Has he contacted you? Did you do it? Did you steal something out of Dumbledore's office? If it was to help Harry then I would have done it."

Hermione reached into her pocket and pulled out the folded parchment and slipped it into Ginny's bag as she headed up to the head table. "Please don't say anything to anyone."

Ginny nodded and shouldered her pack and left the great hall.

"Yes, Professor?" Hermione stood before McGonagal and gritted her teeth. _I have to lie to her, _she thought_, I have to._

At about the same time and not far from Hogwarts, in a countryside inn, Harry sat at a table in a sparsely furnished room, the contents of his meal left on the table. There was a fire burning in the grate, even though it was only late August. His eyes drifted over the room. It was clean and neat, but very poor. He didn't care, it suited his new identity and it was no more or less than what he had lived with all his life. His mind was not on the room, but on the things he had seen and overheard at the Riddle Mansion.

Just as he was climbing the rotting stairway in the weak light of three windows that lined the opposite wall, Harry heard voices coming from somewhere on an upper floor. He thanked Dumbledore silently for encouraging him to carry his invisibility cloak with him at all times and dug it out quickly. He hurried up the stairs almost on tiptoe and glanced back periodically to wipe out the imprints of his shoe on the thick dust of the steps.

The voices emanated from a room on the third floor where candlelight shone on a dark somber paneled hallway. All the doorways leading off the hall were dark with one exception. The house was silent and not a living breathing residence where mice scurried or birds chirped in the attic. This house was silent like a tomb except for the voices.

"He says to keep the boy 'ere," one grumbled. "Don' look lie the kids in any shape to do nuthin'. I says we jus' leave 'im for a bit and go have a pint."

"You go if you like but Snape would kill us on the spot for leaving the boy alone. He said to watch him and that's what we're gonna do. This here's Malfoy's boy. I don' know where the lad's Da is but I'm taking no chances. I don't want Snape or Malfoy after me," the other man argued. "He says the boy's important, so I'm gonna watch him like he was the Dark Lord's own."

Harry could feel his ears almost perk up at the sound of the names, particularly at hearing Snape's name. He could even feel himself grow angry.

"Alright, alright," the other answered back. "But I'm itchin' to get outta here. What's wrong wid the boy anyhow?"

Harry heard the other mumble something and he inched forward down the hall feeling the floor with his foot and hoping there were no obstacles to get in his way. The light was so dim that it could have been night. He was thankful for his invisibility cloak.

"...Snape returns and then we can leave." The deeper voice was speaking and Harry was able to peek through the crack in the door and see someone standing at a window. This was the man speaking.

"Wad's he gonna use 'im for?" the less articulate one asked.

"I keep telling you Percell, it ain't our business," the other answered gruffly. "That Snape gives me the creeps and I don't want to cross him."

"Alright, alright!" The man who was in the room out of view growled.

Harry held his breath and tried to maneuver so that he could see Draco. The crack was too small to view anything but a sliver of the room. He was just about to step around the edge of the door and actually enter the room when he heard the soft, almost cat-like padding footsteps, coming from behind him. He froze, held his breath and closed his eyes.

Harry had learned something important over the months since the attack at Hogwarts. If it was Snape, then he could be in danger by allowing even his thoughts to be unguarded. He had been practicing occlumency among other things. As the footsteps neared his position he slowly took a breath and studied the faded and stained wallpaper of the room in which he was peering. He studied the pink rose and the green leaf that looked almost like mold instead of a leaf.

The presence of his previous Potion's master filled the space. Harry didn't have to turn to look. He could smell the oily odor of the man's greasy hair and the mingled smells of old potion ingredients that clung to his clothes and skin. Harry swallowed silently and waited. The man passed him and entered the room.

"Ah, Mr. Snape," the voice of the speaker sounded servile and menial. "We's just been wondering how you was gettin' on. The boy 'ere is jus' fine as you kin see for yerself, jus' fine."

"Will you be needing us anymore tonight?" the one at the window asked.

"No, leave me," Snape growled in his deep throaty voice.

Harry stepped aside and flattened himself against the wall to avoid the two that scurried out of the room. they moved quickly and glanced at each other and back once before hightailing it down the short length of hallway and down the flight of stairs.

Harry turned his eye back to the crack in the door. He could hear the faint rustling of Snape's cloak as he moved. This time he was able to adjust his position to catch Snape's figure but not Draco's. He assumed that Snape was sitting down in front of Draco. The man leaned forward and gazed at something as if it were an interesting bug crawling on the wall.

"Draco," Snape said quietly, "look into my eyes."

Harry knew exactly what the man was doing. Snape was trying Legilimency with Draco. It also appeared that Snape was having difficulty getting into Draco's mind.

"Tell me Draco," Snape coaxed with a soothing voice. "Tell me what happened the night Dumbledore was killed. Who was in the tower with you?" Harry caught sight of Snape's face and the frown. "Tell me what happened? The Dark Lord killed Voldemort and then you fled down the stairs. Who did you see?"

Harry was also frowning. His automatic reaction in the presence of Snape was to grasp his wand even tighter and to bite his lip hard. It was all he could do not to turn the wand on the man and kill him. He desperately wanted to. But he also wanted to spy on him. The words Snape was saying were barely sinking in, but they did sink in. _Why is he asking him that? _he wondered. _He was there!_ _He was the one who killed Albus, not Voldemort!_

There was a muffled groan and words, almost unintelligible words from the unseen Draco

"Say it again, Draco," Snape urged.

"It hurts," came the voice Harry recognized as Draco. "The Dark Lord forbids me to speak. I cannot tell you."

Snape sat back and studied the person across from him and then withdrew his wand.

"Draco, I am going to remove the memory from your mind. When it is done you will be at peace, but it will hurt when I do it. If you let me, tell me that I can remove it and do it willingly, it will not hurt as much." Harry could see a small vial in his other hand. it was similar to the one's Albus had used to carry the memories he had shown him.

"No, no," came the weak reply. "It will kill me!"

Snape extended the wand and shook his head. "No, Draco it won't kill you. Just do not struggle and it will soon be done."

Harry could not see the tip of the wand, nor hear the incantation that Snape used. What he did hear was an ear wrenching scream of agony. For the first and only time since meeting Malfoy, Harry felt sorry for him. The sound of that scream was the sound of a tormented person. Harry watched in fascination as Snape was thrown back against his chair, his wand still extended but a burning red fire was dancing up his wand and arm and appeared to be causing him excruciating pain. He struggled and finally brought up his other hand and was able to push his wand down towards the ground. Once it was no longer pointing at Draco the red flaming sparks dissipated. Snape's arm smoked and he was grasping it as if in great pain. He looked at Draco with a stunned expression on his face.

Harry watched with confusion. _What is going on here? _he wondered.

"Draco?" Snape gasped, his eyes narrowing. "My Lord?"

A harsh, snarling voice spoke out loudly, " The boy is no longer here, Severus. He is but a instrument. He watches where I cannot watch; he goes where I cannot go." Snape was still bent and holding his arm. The voice continued. "I have waited a long time to catch you in your treachery Severus. Your lies have been very believable, to most people that is. But not to me. When you did not kill the mother..." Draco must have been gesturing because there was a moment of silence, "...I knew then that you had abandoned me. It was a test you see." This time Harry saw the figure of his nemesis rise and walk around Snape and to the window. "I do not trust anyone Severus. I possessed the boy's mind knowing that you have favored him, mentored him. I thought that if you were to give yourself away, it would be with him."

Snape had dropped his head and murmured, "Lord, I beg you..."

Draco turned and laughed heartlessly, "Are you going to beg for your life, Severus?" The boy's face was twisted into a ghoulish gleeful grin. "Oh please do! That would be so entertaining."

Snape remained silent and Harry could see his hand tighten on his wand. He knew that Snape would never make it. Draco had already withdrawn a wand and was pointing it at the man. The only chance Snape had was for Harry to stop Draco. Harry pointed his wand through the crack in the door, his chest pounding with a mixture of emotions and watched the boy's face.

"I must kill you," Draco said calmly. "I must kill everyone who stands in my way. I have already killed the only wizard that ever had a chance to harm me. But I believe you are very clever Severus and I would not want you out there in the world if you are not loyal to me. That would be foolishness indeed. And it is sad really. Your mother was very loyal to me. I wish you were more like her."

Snape's head came up and there was a deadly look in his eyes. Draco raised his arm and opened his mouth to speak. Harry pointed his wand and without speaking aloud, formed the words for the curse in his mind. A lightening bolt of orange light struck Malfoy in his chest and sent him flying against the wall. Harry stepped around the edge of the door, pulled the cloak off and pointed his wand at Snape. "Make a move and I will kill you," he said and Snape knew he meant it.

Hermione stood waiting for McGonagal to reprimand her; tell her that she was very aware that she had stolen the Sorting Hat and Gryffindor's sword and that she could pack her belongings and leave Hogwarts. Instead, the woman studied her intensely and then sat down at one of the empty benches in the Hall. It was now empty of people.

"Hermione, I'd like to place my trust in you for a short period of time," McGonagall was saying.

"Alright," Hermione started. "Of course you can."

"Professor Slughorn has disappeared. I have not heard from him and I am fearing the worst," McGonagall was nervously straightening her skirt and ironing it out nervously with her palms. "I have no one to teach the potions class and I thought if you were interested, you might be willing to stand in for him for a few days until I find a substitute. They are in short supply right now, but I should find someone soon. You would only have to teach two classes; the first and second year students."

Hermione sat down at the bench and looked her in astonishment. "Me, Professor?"

Hermione could tell that McGonagall struggled to give her a small smile. "Yes, you, Miss Gran... Really, Hermione why are you so surprised? You are a skilled and talented witch. You've shown that you can take charge and many students have applauded you as their Prefect. I'm only asking that you do this for a short time. I believe that you are qualified to do what is needed."

Hermione was nodding in agreement to the request while all the time thinking about how she had just committed an act that would not only make her lose favor with her favorite teacher but would mean the end of her school days, possibly any career she might want to have and might even land her in Azkaban or some equivalent to it. "Yes, yes, Professor, I'd be glad to help out."

McGonagall stood. "Good, I'm glad to hear it. This nonsense about the position being jinxed is keeping candidates away." She glanced at Hermione. "Don't worry about it. I will of course credit you and arrange for your teachers to lighten your own workload. I have so many things to concern myself about at this minute... ." Her eyes drifted off and she was unconsciously wringing her hands. She continued midsentence, "Then this theft and Professor Slughorn's disappearance. I don't think the school can stand any more." The last was said and then McGonagall became aware of who she was talking to and straightened perceptibly. "Very well, Miss. Granger. Let us go to my office and I will give you the course schedule."


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter Five Dumbledore's Trust

"Are you going to kill me, Potter?" Snape asked calmly, now and then glancing at the still unconscious Draco. The man was sitting on the floor across from the still figure of the boy.

Harry felt the full force of his fury rising up hard in his chest and throat as he stared at the man's face. What he had overheard had confused him but had not dampened his desire for revenge and to purge himself of his frustration and anger. "Eventually," he managed to sputter.

Snape grunted and burst into a raucous laughter. "Eventually! Why not do it now? You know you want to."

Harry pointed his wand at Snape's wand still grasped in the hand that appeared blistered and was still smoldering. "Toss that away!"

Snape threw it and grimaced slightly at moving the injured appendage. "If you kill me it will be the last chance you have at getting near the Dark Lord. That's what you want isn't it, Potter? To kill him?"

Harry smiled his own false smile at Snape. "You already know the answer to that. You also know that it will be almost next impossible to kill him. Are you hoping that I will try so that he'll kill me instead. Or were you hoping to do it yourself?"

Harry paced the edge of the room, never taking his eyes from the figure that was sitting on the floor. " I should kill you on principle alone, not that I think you have any value alive or dead. Perhaps it will be better to let you live and let you face the Wizengamot for Albus Dumbledore's murder. I only wish that you could spend as much personal time with a Dementor as Sirius did. If I have anything to say about it you will. You see Snape, I want you to suffer." Harry stepped around him avoiding the eyes. He had been practicing Occlumency for just such an occasion, but was not sure of his ability against someone as skilled as Snape.

Snape's eyes strove to catch his own. Harry knew what he wanted to do and kept his head turned. Snape spoke. "I was at Hogwarts that night, but I did not kill Albus. I went to prevent Draco from making a mistake."

Harry turned slightly, but did not look at him. Instead, he was staring at the prone figure of Draco.

Snape continued, "I could have killed you when you ran out of the castle and followed me across the grounds. It was the Dark Lord who has been at Hogwarts from the beginning of term, not I." Snape was speaking quietly.

"Why should I believe anything you say?" Harry snarled. "We both know that we hate each other. There is nothing that you could say that I would believe, nothing that would give me reason to think that I could trust you."

"I hope you are not going to act stupidly, Potter," Snape said with the familiar sneer in his voice. "We must do something before Draco wakes. The Dark Lord has possessed him. If he wakes he will be very dangerous."

Harry continued to look away from Snape while he listened. Only now, he looked at the person at his feet, feeling almost as much contempt and anger towards Draco as he felt towards Snape. "Then speak quickly Snape." This time he did turn and look at the man.

Snape was resting against a chair holding his injured arm. The look on his face was unreadable. Harry continued, "You expect me to believe you are not Voldemort's Deatheater, that you didn't kill Albus and that you want Voldemort dead. That's a lot to swallow without proof positive."

Snape frowned slightly. "Do you know what a Horcrux is Potter?"

This time it was Harry's turn to be surprised. It must have shown in his face.

"Ah, I see you do," Snape said. "Yes, Albus told you many things didn't he? Well, what lies at your feet is a Horcrux. The Dark Lord did not intend for Draco to kill Albus. He took the Polyjuice potion and took my place so that he could be in a position to accomplish two goals. One was to kill a powerful wizard, Dumbledore; and by doing so create a Horcrux. That is what lies at your feet. His Horcrux"

Harry forced himself to not step back and away from Draco. He looked at Snape again and without thinking asked, "And, do you know about the others?"

"Others?" Snape responded and then a light went on in his dark eyes. "There are more than one?" He leaned back into the chair, seeming to collapse in on himself with his astonishment. "More than one!" he gasped.

Harry bit his lip at having given the information away. He pointed his wand at Snape and hissed, "I will not let you leave the room with this information until I know that you did not kill Albus."

They stared at each other until a moan erupted from Draco.

Snape seemed to realize the precariousness of the situation more quickly. "Did Dumbledore ever tell you why he trusted me when everyone else did not?"

Harry shook his head, his eyes squinting at the man.

Snape began to stand and Harry directed his wand at him again. "Slowly," he ordered.

Snape eased himself to his feet, holding on to the edge of the chair and glancing at Draco. "We have very little time, Potter."

"Go on with what you were saying. I don't think I have to tell you to hurry." Harry kicked at Draco's leg and there was a resounding moan.

Snape's good hand stretched out. "Don't, don't do that!" He steadied himself and looked at Harry. "My mother was a teacher at Hogwarts. She was the Potion's master. My parent's lived there when I was born. Dumbledore was the transfiguration's teacher. I was still very young when it happened, but it caused a scandal and was hushed up."

Harry was holding his breath. He wasn't sure he wanted to hear what Snape had to say that might absolve him of his previous actions. Harry wanted to hate him and wanted him to be the target of his anger. But he also wanted to know what had driven Dumbledore to stand up for this man against everything that everyone else believed. The turmoil was twisting his guts and he prodded Draco with his foot again when Snape hesitated.

"What everyone believes is that my mother killed my muggle father. You saw...in the Pensieve what he did to me," Snape spit the words out. A look of sheer disgust was in his face. Harry didn't know if it was telling the tale or telling it to him that had put the look there. "She was sent to Azkaban. Dumbledore went to her trial and stood up for her, told them that her muggle husband was abusing her and her son, and she had killed him to protect herself and me. He could not keep them from sending her to Azkaban. They were sympathetic, but it did not stop them from sending her to prison. It was because of the way my father died."

Harry frowned. _The way he died_, he thought and considered the undertones he heard in Snape's voice. It made him shiver. _The way he died_, he said to himself again.

"You should be familiar with the curse she used Potter," Snape hissed. "You used it on Draco."

"Sectumsempra," Harry mumbled, once again feeling the horror of what he had experienced when he had cut Malfoy to ribbons in the girls bathroom using a spell written on the edge of the potion's book.

Snape nodded. "Yes."

"But that was dark magic," Harry managed. "Your mother..."

He didn't finish when Snape broke in. "My mother was one of the first Deatheaters. She was a follower of Tom Riddle before he became the Dark Lord. He liked to collect people who were insecure...followers of others; victims. She was one of his professor's and she thought he was brilliant. He, in turn, recognized her weakness, her victimization at the hands of my father. She was an accomplished potion's maker as you learned. He wanted skilled people around him and she proved very useful." The last he said with a snort.

"The potion's book belonged to her!" Harry started.

"Yes."

Harry was busy sorting through the information when he felt Draco stir again. "So Albus Dumbledore tried to help your mother. How does that prove you trustworthy?"

"I became a Deatheater at a very young age and with my mother's assistance," Snape continued. "I learned many skills at her hands and with the guidance of my 'uncle'."

Harry gasped again and spat out, "Voldemort!"

Snape bowed his head slightly and then said, "Dumbledore trusted me because he kept a secret for me, one that kept me in his debt; and eventually one that allowed me to trust him when I could trust no other. He never threatened me or used the information. I grew to believe that he genuinely cared about me. I would never have betrayed Albus Dumbledore."

Harry remained silent. Harry knew that Snape knew he must divulge the secret or he would never believe him.

"The only people that knew the truth were my mother, Albus Dumbledore and..." Snape sagged and the last word came out in a whisper, "Voldemort."

"Where is your mother?" Harry asked. "Is she still in Azkaban?" _If she were_, he thought, _she would be almost as old as McGonagal or as old as Dumbledore had been_.

"He killed her, of course," Snape had regained a little composure and said it as if they were in the classroom and Harry had asked a stupid question. "He did not want anyone around who knew the truth. He was the only witness. He thought it made me his servant forever. If I believed that Albus would never reveal the truth, I knew for certain that Tom Riddle would if it served his purpose."

"And what was the truth, Snape?" Harry asked.

"I killed my own father. I was the one who cut him to pieces."

Harry sat in the hotel room and the words ran through his mind once again. he squeezed his eyes shut and grimaced. Vivid pictures of what it must have been like flooded his mind. Snape had only been a very young child when he saw him being abused in the Pensieve. He must have killed his father not long after.

Harry could imagine his distraught mother running to Riddle, talking to him as a confident. Harry remembered the well-oiled, controlled Tom Riddle he had seen in the memories Albus had shown him. The one where Slughorn, another teacher, had been fascinated with the boy.

Voldemort, ever one to take advantage of the situation, had used the information and acquired a lifelong dedicated servant- Snape. It was to Snape's credit that he had not become a true Deatheater. Harry was still wondering if he had been deceived by a master of deception when a knock came to the door.

"Who is it?" he asked through the oak.

"It's me," a faint, muffled familiar voice said.

Harry pressed his face against the door and closed his eyes. "You gave me the Polyjuice Potion and I turned into someone. Who was it?"

"Goyle," came the reply.

He sighed with relief. It had felt lonely in the room, separated from the world and his friends. There was one person he'd been wishing he could talk to and she stood on the other side of the door. "Are you alone?" he asked, anxious to open the door.

"The other one was Crabb and he's with me now," she answered.

Harry smiled. That meant Ron. He opened the door and reached out as she encircled him with her arms. "Hermione! Ron!"


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter Six Hagrid's Story

Ron gasped. "You had Snape there and didn't kill him?!"

"Ron! Harry is not a murderer," Hermione said coming to Harry's defense. She paused and they both watched her. "This is war and if it comes to it he will do what he has to do. Otherwise... ." She turned to him. "You both know what I mean. Harry, I know you; you couldn't kill a man just because he was a murderer and now it seems that he wasn't a murderer after all."

Harry nodded. He was telling them about what had happened in the Riddle Mansion. Hermione had tracked him down through Dobby and Kreacher as they had preplanned and she and Ron had slipped away from Hogwarts. Their disappearance was being covered by Ginny, Neville and several others.

Harry was speaking about what he had learned. "Snape says Voldemort took Polyjuice potion and was at Hogwarts from the beginning of term. He was the one on the tower who killed Albus. Snape apparated to Hogsmeade. He was following--tracking--Voldemort and met Madam Rosmerta who informed him that Dumbledore and I had arrived there only minutes before and had gone on to the school. He said he pieced together what happened, knew some of what Voldemort planned, at least the assassination plan. He said that he couldn't understand why he could use Legilimency on Draco and had no idea that it was Voldemort. He also did know that Voldemort meant to make a Horcrux. But I was right from the beginning Hermione about Malfoy being a Deatheater. Snape found out about the Horcrux when he heard the word from Narcissa Malfoy. He used veritaserum to find out what she knew. He was sent there to kill her on Voldemort's orders."

Hermione gasped and Ron leaned in. "How did she ever learn about them?"

Harry shook his head. "Don't know, Ron. Anyway, Snape seems to think Draco is a Horcrux now. I let slip that there were others." He squeezed his eyes closed in frustration.

Ron frowned, "So why didn't one of you kill Draco?"

Hermione shook her head in exasperation and hissed, "Bloodthirsty aren't we, Ron. Don't listen to him, Harry." She bent closer waiting for the answer to Ron's question in spite of her protestations to it.

"I couldn't do it and I don't think Snape would have let me," Harry said before she could continue. "We aren't sure what's happening with Draco. He's acting as if he's possessed but I have no idea what a person who has a Horcrux inside of him would act like. Dumbledore seemed to think that only objects or animals, like Voldemort's snake, could be made into Horcruxes."

"Did Snape have any more to say about Horcruxes; what they are, how they are made?' Hermione asked.

Harry nodded. "I let him do most of the talking because I'd already let slip that there might be more than one. You both know as much as I do and I thought that if Voldemort had tried to make Horcruxes out of something that was tied to Gryffindor or Ravenclaw, as Albus thought he might, then the two objects we know belong to Gryffindor had to be hidden." He nodded at Hermione. "You see why I asked you to hide Gryffindor's sword and the Sorting Hat. Snape didn't know anything about what Dumbledore was doing. He was suspicious about what had happened to Dumbledore's hand, knew it had happened because of very dark magic, but couldn't connect it to Dumbledore's search. And he didn't know what Albus was up to."

Harry hunched his shoulders and continued, "It's amazing if you think about it. Snape followed Voldemort and spied on Dumbledore and then spied for both of them on each other, and he still didn't know that there were Horcruxes." He wrinkled his face in puzzlement.

Hermione appeared to be deep in thought. "By the way Harry, Remus wasn't able to find the ring with the cracked stone. Dumbledore said that that one was destroyed. I don't know who would have it. I'm not sure it would do them any good now anyway. So we're looking for the locket, the cup and the snake." She held up her hand and counted them off on her fingers.

"There were seven," Ron was studying his fingers, as if counting each one as well. "There's one piece still inside him. Then there was the ring, the diary, the cup, the snake and the locket. You found the locket but someone had been there before you. So there are really two Horcruxes unaccounted for and Dumbledore said they are likely connected to Ravenclaw or Gryffindor. Now we think that one of them might be Malfoy."

Harry was sitting on the edge of the bed and had his hands pressed together. The three looked at each other. "Hermione have you had any luck?"

She nodded. "A little, but only just. I found the address to the orphanage but it is only an abandoned muggle building. It had been empty for years and they say...haunted. Which might be important or not. If there was a Horcrux there then it would certainly seem haunted to muggles. Or it might just be a creepy building with a reputation. I started back where you asked and followed Dumbledore's trail. There are lots of people helping. Do you have a plan?"

"Snape says he can find a way for me to get to the snake; to his snake, Nagini." Harry sighed heavily. "If anyone can kill the snake it would be me. I can speak parseltongue. He says the snake rarely leaves Voldemort's side."

"If he knows where the snake is and it's with You-Know-Who," Ron was saying, "why not just go kill him; you know, You-Know-Who?" Harry and Hermione stared at him and he shrugged, suddenly blushing. "What?"

"Ron!" Hermione shook her mane of brown hair and rolled her eyes. "He's too dangerous to try and kill now. That's the whole idea of tracking these objects down and destroying them. Once all the bits and pieces of Voldemort's soul are gone then he is mortal. Only then is he at his weakest."

Harry was nodding along with her words. "That's what Dumbledore said. And even at his weakest there are few wizards that can kill him."

"You've just got to trust what Dumbledore said Harry," Hermione patted his arm soothingly. "He believed you could do it and if he did, then I do."

"Thanks," Harry stared at his folded hands once again.

"Do you really think you can trust him, Harry?" Ron asked.

"Who, Snape?" Harry nodded his head ruefully, "He didn't have to tell me about his parents. Now he's in more danger than I am. He has to hide from Voldemort and protect Draco. But I don't think he told me everything. As a matter of fact I think he left a lot out. It's not like we're best friends and we were chatting away you know."

"When he was telling you about all of this did he mention why Voldemort killed your parents?" Hermione asked with a soft voice.

"Dumbledore thought Voldemort might have been trying to make me one of his Horcruxes. You have to commit a murder to make one. He'd already killed my dad and mum and was trying to make a Horcrux out of me." He frowned and Ron and Hermione glanced at each other and then back to him. " It backfired, but Dumbledore thought he passed on some of his powers to me, like being able to speak parseltongue and who knows what else. I'm even supposed to have the ability to possess his mind, although Albus said he was using Occlumency against me. He says if he tries to possess my mind like he did in the Ministry of Magic it causes him pain. But there's nothing to say I can't try possessing his mind."

Ron grimaced as if the thought would be the same as fighting a hundred spiders the size of Aragog all alone and without a wand. "You're not thinking of doing that are you Harry?"

Harry shook his head. "No, that would be the last thing I'd ever do. I can't even protect myself from Snape's Legilimency, I don't think I could do it with Voldemort."

"That just proves that Draco isn't a Horcrux then, Harry," Ron said sitting at the edge of the bed. "He doesn't have a scar like yours and he doesn't have any powers. What's-His-Name got it wrong with you and it sent him off in exile for eleven years, so he didn't try again."

"When are you going to call him by his right name?" Hermione groaned and Ron frowned at her.

"So am I right?" he asked and turned to Harry and then back to her. "I'm right aren't I? I can be right once in awhile, Hermione."

"Actually, you make a good point, Ron," Hermione spoke soothingly.

"Right then," he said, looking pacified.

" Are you still planning on visiting Godrics Hollow?" Hermione asked Harry chewing on her lip.

Harry nodded. "I've decided that if Voldemort was looking for something that belonged to Gryffindor he might go to Gryffindor's ancestral home. I'm not going to go strolling in as I had originally thought I'd do. I think it's sunk in that it might be pretty dangerous. I just don't know what else to do to find the remaining Horcruxes. But I did make a decision. I'm going to go to Knockturn Alley and see if I can either get a job at Borgin and Burkes or at least learn some information."

Ron frowned, horrified, and Hermione hushed her small, unspoken, 'oh no', with a hand over her mouth.

Harry sat up straighter. "It's the only way. I've got to follow his trail and see what he saw and learn what he knew. Besides I've got a plan. If that cabinet still exists, the vanishing cabinet Malfoy used to get the Death Eaters into the school, then I can use it to go there too. All you have to do is persuade McGonagall to take the charms off of it so I can use it to enter Hogwarts."

"Oh that's a good idea Harry," Ron said. "It'd be much safer than us leaving and meeting up with you in unprotected places."

"That's if the Ministry hasn't confiscated the cabinet at Hogwarts, or at Borgins'; or both," Hermione said.

A knock sounded at the door, almost a stealthy soft tap. The three jumped and turned to the door. Ron and Harry had their wands out, but Hermione was looking at them sheepishly. "It's all right, Harry. I've invited someone to join us."

He turned to her, an angry look flashing across his face. "Hermione, you haven't!" And added when she said nothing, "That wasn't a good idea." For a moment he had two thoughts; one was that it was Ginny and the other that he had not told them not to tell others what he had shared. He'd believed that they would keep whatever he said to themselves.

"Well, it was because he was there, Harry," Hermione said and stood, stepping over to the door. "He was a student at Hogwarts when Voldemort was there. He might know something. As a mater-of-fact, I know he knows something or I wouldn't have done it." She opened the door and looked up. "Good evening, Hagrid. Come in."

The large bear-like figure bent and stepped into the room. His first action was to grab Harry and hug him so hard that Ron and Hermione both pulled at the large arms to let him go. There were large tears in Hagrid's eyes and the voice was shaky, "Blimey Harry, the Daily Prophet said you'd left the country. Not to blame ya fer that, but I was really worried. Then Hermione said you was here and wanted to see me. Can't tell you how much better I felt." His large hands patted at his heart and he beamed down at Harry who was recovering from the hug. "She said...she said you was the Chosen One..." He broke off for a second and started crying piteously. "The Chosen One, Harry. Well, I thought maybe... but it's really awful... you...you have to face HIM!"

Harry looked over arching his eyebrows in a threatening gesture at Hermione as if to ask, "What did you tell him?"

"It's all right, Hagrid," he said turning to sooth the half-giant. "We aren't sure about that."

"Why aren't you in school then?" Hagrid gasped. "You're in ever so much danger out here. Professor Trelawney's been tellin' Professor McGonagall all about what's t'happen..." Once again he didn't finish as Harry cut him off.

"Sit down Hagrid and let's talk for a minute." He pushed him towards the only piece of furniture likely to hold him, the bed, and sat in the newly emptied chair that Ron had been in. He wasn't sure how to proceed, what information to start with and he turned to Hermione who took a chair next to him while Ron leaned on the bed post and watched.

"Hagrid," she began. "Harry and Dumbledore were working together to find a way to kill Vol..." she stuttered and then recovered, "You-Know-Who. Dumbledore showed Harry some things that happened in the past that are connected to that task. But Professor Dumbledore died before Harry learned everything he needed to know." She leaned into Harry's arm to indicate that she had done the introduction.

"Yeah," Harry continued, "yeah that's right, Hagrid. We were trying to learn everything that we could about Voldemort when..." Hagrid grunted at the name but had quieted his tears and was listening. Harry rushed on, "You went to school with Tom Riddle and we know that he got you in trouble and had you expelled. You've been at Hogwarts since you were eleven, so you know about everything there is to know about the school and the teachers."

"What is it you need to know, Harry?" The dark eyes narrowed and Hagrid was studying him keenly.

"What is it I need to know, Hermione?" Harry turned to her.

"Well, for instance," Hermione was still looking at Harry as she spoke. "Who were his friends, what teachers liked him, how did he act when the teachers were gone, did he get into trouble; things like that." She turned to him. "We aren't sure exactly what we're looking for Hagrid but I think we'll know it when we hear it."

"Did he play on a Quidditch team?" Ron spoke up. They all turned to look at him as if he had suddenly grown two sets of ears. "Well, it could be important."

Hagrid cleared his throat and sat with his hands palm-flat on the bed. "Let's see. He didn't play Quidditch. No he wasn't one for tha'. He had his friends but I didn't hang round 'em much." Hagrid looked down a little blush rising in his cheeks. "Mos' kids were scared of me, ya see. Anyway," he cleared his throat and looked up. "He had his friends; Avery,... and such. They was followers, hung on 'is every word, thought he was sumptin. Then the teachers thought he was a darlin', cept for Dumbledore. There was Crocket, Merrythought, Hamilton, Prince and o' course Slughorn; favored him and had 'im in for some of his parties and such. Then there was Professor Dumbledore teachin' at the school. All but Dumbledore thought he was the best."

"Prince?" Harry asked.

"Yeah, she was the Potion's Professor," Hagrid answered.

"Snape's mother," Hermione said.

"Was she now," Hagrid growled with surprise. "Hate fer ya to say his name, Harry. When I lay my eyes on him; he is as good as dead!" His lips curled into a snarl and then caught Hermione's eye, calmed himself and said, "I suppose it's possible. She was a young woman when she began teaching, not more then a few years outta school herself. Didn't know she was married. I never knew who Professor...who Snape's parents were. Guess it was kept quiet fer sum reason. She was gone even afore I was expelled... and even when I was thirteen and started as gamekeeper and keeper of keys at Hogwarts. Hmmm... Where was 'er husband? What happened to 'im?"

Harry answered, "He was murdered."

"Who murdered him?" Hagrid asked, again with surprise.

"His wife, Madam Prince," Hermione said quickly, telling the lie that Snape and Dumbledore had given to the world. He continued, "She was sent to Azkaban and died there."

"Really!" His eyebrows melted together in a frown. "Well, I was young and that kind of information weren't bandied about casually. I knew that she had left the school and left teaching altogether 'n that's all. Turned out bad did she? Shame, cuz she was a pretty woman. 'Course I only knew her by her other name, Professor Prince." He regarded Hermione quietly and said, " So she had Snape about the time Harry's parents- Lily and James- were born, cuz they all went to school together; they was all the same age."

Harry nodded and Hermione continued, "Yes. After Mr. and Mrs. Snape or Professor Prince as you knew her, left Hogwarts, they lived in the muggle world. Then they returned when Snape started at Hogwarts. The school records show that she returned to Hogwarts for a short time to teach. It was shortly after Snape turned fourteen when the Daily Prophet reported the murder of his father."

"I don' remember 'er teaching' potions at the school when James and Sirius and them boys were at school. An o' course Lily." He glanced at Harry and then turned back to Hermione. " I remember her coming back. Still not married as far as I knew. I mean when you're a student you don't really think about your teachers much do ya? If she was Snape's mother; it was kept a secret. They didn't allow married teachers at Hogwarts even then." Hagrid rubbed his lips with a finger. "An you think He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named was a part of that-- the murder of Snape's father--when he was in power?' Hagrid asked. "You think he helped Madam Prince murder her husband?"

Ron let out a gasp of surprise. There were a number of deaths attributed to him during his rise to power; even muggle deaths. Harry had told them Snape confessed to the murder. It was only when Hagrid mentioned the possibility did he wonder if Voldemort had played a part in helping Snape kill his father. The spell he used was very sophisticated dark magic. It that were true, it was either Voldemort or Madam Prince who had given Snape the spell, Harry thought.

It also appeared to Harry that Madam Prince had returned to Hogwarts to teach and that they, she and her son, had kept their relationship a secret, possibly to hide from the abusive husband and father. _Dumbledore would have known_, Harry thought.

"We don't know much about it, Hagrid. Why don't you tell us what your years at Hogwarts were like and we can think about the other later. Focus on Tom Riddle if you can."

"All right, Harry," Hagrid nodded. "If it'll help." The room was now very quiet except for a faint scratching of a hidden mouse in the corner. The fire was warm but left long shadows in the corners of the room. They huddled around the bed and Hagrid lowered his voice,

"Let's see. Tom was older than I was by a few years. He was a Prefect and a good student as far as I knew. He was in Slytherin and I was in Gryffindor so's I don't know much about what was happenin' there. Slughorn was Head of that house."

"If Madam Prince taught Potions, what did Slughorn teach?" Ron asked.

Hermione and Harry had looked up, both mildly annoyed at the interruption until they heard the question. "Good question, Ron," Harry nodded and turned to look at Hagrid.

"Madam Prince didn't teach Potions, Ron; she taught Defense Against the Dark Arts," Hagrid said. "When she came back to Hogwarts when James, Sirius, Remus and Pettigrew were alive," Hagrid answered , "Slughorn was head of Slytherin and the teacher for Potions jus like he was las' year. Albus was transfiguration's professor, Merrythought taught Charms..."

"Ok, ok, Hagrid," Hermione interrupted his recitation. The three stared at each other until Hermione encouraged him by saying, "Tell us more about Tom Riddle and...Madam Prince."

Harry was thinking about what Hagrid was saying. "Of course, it made sense. Slughorn had gone on and on about how his own mother having been such a good Potion's student. He would have had to be the Potion's teacher in order to know that. Harry had never questioned what other teachers were doing since he'd only just discovered that Snape's mother was teaching at Hogwarts.

Things seem to be going together like a large puzzle. Snape, himself, had said that his mother was one of the first Deatheaters, had favored Tom Riddle when he was in school. She had returned to teach at Hogwarts shortly before Snape killed his father.

Harry distinctly remembered the memory he had shared with Albus. The memory of Tom Riddle returning to Hogwarts and asking for a job; a job teaching Defense Against the Dark Arts. He remembered the man's face, not quite human anymore even then, and the ugly look when he was refused. Could the two coincide? Did Madam Prince show up to take the position instead? Did Voldemort send her to apply? Did he help her kill her retched muggle, child-beating husband and Snape is taking the blame for it? Did she really end up in Azkaban? Would Voldemort let his favorite Death eater and teacher languish there, just to die?" He had to admit to himself that the last question was probably rhetorical. _Voldemort would have easily let her die in Azkaban, _Harry thought. _He'd have no problem doing that!_

"Harry," a voice disturbed the train of thoughts. "Harry!"

"What," he glanced up. "Oh yes. You were saying Hagrid?"

He listened for another hour and then, along with Ron and Hermione, bid their friend goodbye. It was now getting very late in the evening and Hermione and Ron were anxious to return to school so that they would not be missed. Harry was walking them to the door. "It only goes to prove that we shouldn't take anything for granted. The information we have has holes in it and we're missing things."

"That and the fact that Snape is not trustworthy Harry. He lied to you," Hermione was adjusting her traveling cloak and closing it with a gold clasp at her throat. She looked very pretty and very grown-up in the fire light. Ron was staring at her with admiring eyes and Harry almost smiled. It was Ron's turn to fall head-over-heels, just as he, Harry, had with Ginny. He almost wished she were there at that moment. He would have given anything to chuck it all and stop trying to figure out mysteries. He just wanted some peace. He answered Hermione, "I don't know that he lied, Hermione. He left information out. I told you, I thought he wasn't telling me everything."

"You've got that right, mate," Ron agreed.

"As soon as I get back to Hogwarts I'm going straight to the library," Hermione said and kissed him on the cheek. "There's bound to be information I ignored."

"There's other places where you can find information," Harry said suddenly. "Remember when I had detention with Snape and he had me copying the catalogue in Filches office. He's got stuff stored from way back when my mum and dad were at Hogwarts. Snape had me copying every detention and ever mischievous thing my dad, and Sirius or Remus ever did. He wanted to goad me into getting mad. But I seem to remember other names there too. I know it sounds awful, but it might be worth looking at. There were hundreds of cards there."

Instead of looking horrified, there was a definite gleam in her eyes and she smiled. "Never fear, Ron and I will find a way to get to them, even if we have to have detention."

"Hermione!"

"Honestly, Ron. I just broke into Dumbledore's office and stole the Sorting Hat and Gryffindor's sword. Do you think a little detention will bother me?" She sniffed haughtily and headed out the door.

Ron's look of admiration had faded to a look of despair and Harry laughed. "Go to Filches' cards only as a last resort, Hermione. They really were filled with tons of worthless rubbish."


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter Seven Godric's Hollow

Harry woke once again in an unfamiliar room, sweating from the aftereffects of a particularly nasty dream. He had been traveling since meeting with Ron and Hermione, trying to stay out of sight and getting ever closer to Godric's Hollow. And yet, he was finding that things were getting in the way of his trip to his parent's home and in a sense, his own long abandoned home.

The dream was a montage of flashing lights and figures running through the halls of Hogwarts and one of a tall, blond Deatheater shooting spells and curses in all kinds of directions. He woke with a start when one of the spells struck Ginny in the chest and she reached for the spot, looked up and fell dead at his feet. He knew the look of death on her face; he had seen it before. He'd seen it on Cedric Diggory's face the night he had come face-to-face with Voldemort in the cemetery. And, Harry had found the cemetery again.

It had been the bones of Tom Riddles own father that had resurrected him and it was in the Little Hangleton cemetery where the grave lay. Harry wandered among the stones for a good while until he found the tombstones with the Riddle name cut into the surface and the ones that were scorched by the marks of the spells cast at him. Although what had taken place that night was horrific, it was peaceful now; somehow ridding itself of the evil Voldemort had cast on it. Harry sat in the pale, cold sunlight and unfolded the parchment once again. The letter had arrived just before he'd left the last place he'd been.

He knew immediately who had sent the letter, although it was not signed.

_Dear Harry, I will keep this short. I have been thinking about this information and think that it solves part of the puzzle. Let's see what you think._

When Madam Prince returned to Hogwarts, she taught for a year. Harry, I think that job is truly jinxed and I think we both know who did it. When he couldn't get the job himself he made it impossible for anyone else to have it without dire consequences. Anyway, at the end of that year, her husband was killed by Snape. I did some research, and don't ask me how we learned about this because it was extremely difficult to get this information, but, Madam Prince did not end up in Azkaban. She disappeared immediately after the death of her husband. He, of course, did not live with her at the school because married teachers were not allowed. It seems that he located her- hunted her down is my guess- and found her here. I think that Dumbledore allowed her to return so he could help protect her. Hagrid didn't know that she was married remember?

Harry rolled his eyes and squinted at the headstone in front of him. Yeah he'd figured out as much for himself. He was sitting quietly on a stone bench near the Riddle graves.

__

Hermione, whatever are you going on about Madam Prince for? he growled silently as he glanced at the paper again_. _Harry felt mildly frustrated. Snape's mother was dead and gone. It was a waste of time to concern themselves with her. And yet, Harry knew Hermione was a bulldog about such things. He unrolled the paper further.

__

Now, this is an interesting detail in Filch's records (yes, I did manage to go through the older ones). In your father's 6th year, Dumbledore punished him and Sirius, himself, for having been off limits in a room in an abandoned part of the castle. It seems they encountered a spectral figure, a woman who appeared demented and wild. Filch wrote in the record that they ran into a Haunt. I will explain that in a moment. It also appears that the only record of this event was in the card catalogue and everyone connected with the situation had his or her memories obliterated. It was probably Dumbledore who performed the charm because we know Filch couldn't do that kind of magic. I don't think Snape knew a record had been made or chances are he would have destroyed the information and there would be no history of the event at all. He certainly would not have wanted you to stumble into it when he made you copy everything out as punishment.

Putting it all together, I wonder if the woman that your father and Sirius saw wasn't Madam Prince kept in the castle, maybe against her will - her son, Snape was her jailer and Dumbledore helped hide the truth. They would certainly have recognized their Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher. It might not have been a bad thing at all, given that she might have been mad or evil or even worse. Maybe she was the one who really killed her husband and Snape covered for her. Anyway, its' very likely that Lord Voldemort wanted to get her back. But that's a mystery for another time.

"Right you are on that, Hermione," Harry hissed aloud and then turned quickly to survey the area for eavesdroppers. He was completely alone sitting under an oak that was dropping golden leaves in the fall afternoon. "Can we move on?" he said talking to the paper.

__

Oh yes, I said I'd tell you what a Haunt is. I wasn't aware of this either and went to Nearly Headless Nick to ask about it. It's a ghost that isn't aware that they are a ghost. They think they are still living and can be really dangerous because they are capable of doing very strange things like following you around, sticking to you like glue and they can even harm you. But truly Harry, I believe that it wasn't a Haunt but a living, breathing woman your dad and Sirius found. I can't tell you what became of her and maybe Snape was right in saying she was dead. Anyway, she is probably dead now. She would be getting fairly old. I just can't track her after the initial report of the husband's death. It just seems to be connected and I can't shake the feeling. I'm going to see if I can find that particular room in the castle.

Perhaps I'm getting side tracked,...

"NO KIDDING!" Harry snarled and smashed the letter against his leg. "I need information Hermione, not this!" He opened the squashed letter again.

..._but I want to emphasize that you shouldn't trust, Snape. Remember this was his mother, the one who introduced him to V. Do you expect to meet with him again soon? I didn't ask you what your plans were about him when we last met._

By the way, Madam Prince, in her own days at Hogwarts, was in Ravenclaw and a Prefect. She later became Voldemort's first Death eater. Do you suppose she was an heir to Ravenclaw or had some object that he could use to make a you-know-what? Just a thought.

Well, that is all I've found. I also wanted to tell you that the means to travel directly into Hogwarts remains in place, with one difference; your arrival will be known ( by several people), Professor McGonagall had to promise to tell Scrimgoer if you showed up. Also, please let us know when you arrive at Godric's Hollow. Remus wants to know so that he can have someone in place just in case. I think that would be a good idea. He also doesn't know what we know about Snape. I guess Snape will have to take his chances. There are a lot of people looking for him and Draco. I think if Remus finds him it'll be death on sight.

I can see I've gone on long enough. There is no other new information. The Daily Prophet has not printed a word about you now for a week. Do you want me to send Rita Skeeter something?

Keep us in your thoughts; you are in ours. Love Hermione

Keeping to the side roads, and crossing fields Harry made his way towards the village of Godric's Hollow. From what he could tell on the map, it was hardly a village anymore. Since there was no direct road going through the little town, it had been sidetracked and almost abandoned. There was a huge manor house that sat in the bowl of a large deep valley and the small town that sat at the opening of the spoon-shaped bowl was Godric's Hollow. There were only a few houses there. The manor itself was supposedly the ancient home of Godric Gryffindor, although it had not been occupied for centuries and was said, by the locals, to be haunted.

Harry was almost there when nightfall came earlier than usual. It was late autumn and the once sunny blue sky had clouded over and it was drizzling and gloomy. He pulled the cap down over his brow to keep rain off his glasses and walked to the stone entrance gate. It had been built of rounded field stone and was the marker for the entrance to the valley. It no longer held a gate, but looked like a prehistoric megalith or the last crumbling cornerstone of an ancient ruin.

He stopped and waited in the dark, feeling himself grow colder and colder. The rain was soaking his coat, trousers and shoes; the ground was turning to mud. Two dark figures stepped around the stone. He knew who they were and twisted his wand between his fingers out of nervous habit.

Snape, dressed in muggle clothing with a flat-brimmed hat on his head, stood beside Draco, also wearing muggle clothing. Draco stared out into the dark in his usual vacant way and did not acknowledge Harry. Snape nodded once, but didn't speak.

Harry yanked his satchel further up on his shoulders to show his irritation and then walked past them down the dimly lit road. They turned and followed silently and disappeared into the gloom.

Shelter for the night was an ancient muggle hotel. They arrived late and wandered down the short street of the tiny little hamlet staying to the shadows, which were plentiful. Harry entered the lobby first and talked to the old but congenial woman at the desk. She was chatty and he stood in the dim light of a single lamp until he could pull away with a key grasped in his hand.

"It took you long enough," a deep voice mumbled behind him as they climbed the narrow stairway to the upper floor. The room was an attic room and small. Harry dropped his satchel on the floor near the only window and opened a door to a miniscule bathroom. He turned to watch Snape gently guide Draco to a chair and remove his soaked clothing. Squeezing past Harry he noticed the small tub and withdrew his wand, touching it and instantaneously filling it with water.

Harry wasn't interested in watching Draco get bathed by his former potion's master. He grabbed a towel from the rack and rubbed at his hair and wandered to the desk in the corner. He was in Godric's Hollow and that's all he cared about at the moment. He sat and stared at the faded wallpaper and drew the map from his satchel. He was studying it when a cup of steaming tea appeared at his wrist. He looked up to see Snape sitting down in the only other available chair in the room, a cup of his own in his hand.

Harry nodded at the bathroom door. "Is he all right?"

Snape nodded.

Harry studied the man. It was unusual to see him dressed in muggle clothing. _A little too American wild west_, Harry thought. _At least he's got it right_, he pondered. No strange shoes or bowler hats to offset the look. The hair, amazingly, was cut short and swept back. It gave the man a whole new appearance. One, Harry was sure, he was glad to have.

They sat in silence for a moment and Snape finally turned to stare back. "Yes? Do you have a question, Potter, or are you just normally rude?"

Harry felt the bile rise in his throat. "Only around you, Snape and I think I'm hardly as rude as you can and usually are."

The black eyes surveyed him and a smile curled on the thin lips. "I would advise you to tread carefully, Mr. Potter. I can be a dangerous man."

Harry smiled back wickedly and answered, "You're in my world, Snape. Besides I think you know that you need me as much as I need you. My understanding is the muggle Prime Minister is interested in me as well as Minister Scrimgoer and a few others. I'd advise you that you are no longer my Potion's professor and can no longer abuse your authority over me."

"Let us not play games, Potter," Snape sighed wearily. "The Dark Lord wants both of us. He has many spies. If either of us were seen, word would get back to him. We are on a short rope and all he has to do is to begin to draw it in."

Harry turned back to his map and spoke as he studied it, "What about Draco? Voldemort possessed him once. He's a homing device and dangerous to keep around." There was silence and Harry turned back. Snape was watching him. "You know? Homing device?" Muggles track people electronically so they can find them. They bug them. Put devices in their clothes...whatever. Draco has already been possessed once. He could lead Voldemort to us."

"I have placed a spell on him that should protect him from such an invasion," Snape said and waved a hand as if to dismiss such a notion.

Harry thought about it. Snape was actually in more danger than he. Voldemort would be furious at his treachery and treason. Harry reasoned that if Snape was telling the truth and he had not killed Dumbledore, had escaped with Draco and fled, then he would be willing to give more information.

"What does he want?" Harry rushed on, "I know he wants immortality, which he almost has with his Horcruxes. He wants dominion and he seems to get pleasure from terrorizing everyone. I know he wants to get rid of the half-bloods and it seems he's almost done it. No one seems capable of stopping him now. What else does he want?" Although he did not want it to, he heard panic in his voice and he knew blood was rushing to his face.

Snape leaned back and stared at the opposite wall, taking a sip from the cup and setting it aside. Harry waited. The man finally answered, his voice a droning, monotone. "He is looking for something. If it is true that he has made more than one Horcrux as Dumbledore thought and two have been destroyed- the ring and the diary- then he will seek to protect the others. He must insure that they are not harmed. In protecting them, he will draw upon his army which grows more immense everyday." Snape's eyes drifted back to Harry. "Perhaps he seeks to undo what has been done, I don't know. He will use Azkaban as his fortress, that I know already. Other than that I cannot tell you anything."

Harry considered what he was saying with horror. "When you say he will try to undo what he's done, are you saying he will try and put his soul back together?"

"Rather crudely put; but yes," Snape nodded solemnly. "I do not know if it can be done or who would have the knowledge to do it. I don't think he foresaw the danger to himself, a major flaw with his personality, I believe. " Snape rubbed his lips with his index finger appearing to be talking to himself as he spoke." I don't think he knew that Dumbledore would investigate to such great lengths and come upon his secret. It does show us that he has his weaknesses."

"Who would have that kind of knowledge?" Harry asked.

"That is not important now," Snape said and rose to his feet to go into the bathroom. It will be almost impossible to get near him in Azkaban. If he hides the items you told me about in the fortress, then we cannot reach them. It is imperative that they be destroyed first, as you are aware. If they can be destroyed, then eventually, we must think of a way to bring him to us. It will not be as difficult. If he knows that he can kill you or me, he will come to us to do it personally. One of us must be the bait that draws him out." Snape turned at the bathroom door and smiled again.

"If it comes to it," Harry said gravely, "I would not give you up. I might hate you, but I wouldn't dishonor Dumbledore by giving you up. He trusted you even to the moment of his death. You may see that as a weakness on my part, especially since you gave my parents up to Voldemort. It may be my undoing to even trust you with that. Understand Snape, there will come a time, I hope, when I can meet you, one-on-one without Voldemort between us. I hope you have enough honor to duel with me then."

Snape stopped with his hand on the door knob, the smile fading from his lips. He gave a small bow. "Yes, when the time comes I will meet you on the field and duel with you."

Harry nodded and returned to the map. He wasn't really looking at it any longer.


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter Eight Hermione's Prisoner

They walked along the overgrown lane in the early hours of the morning. Fog lay on the ground and obscured anything that lay further than a meter or so away. Harry followed the advice Remus had given him and after leaving the main street of the town they turned and entered the valley. The house he was looking for, his true home, was just off the lane.

Harry knew it immediately. There was a stone fence that hid the garden and the only visible part of the house was the roof. It was a small cottage. In better times it would have been a charming little home. He could envision warm glowing lights beckoning visitors to the round-topped slat door and he could almost see the faces of his parents smiling and welcoming them in.

Snape and Draco held back and stood in the middle of the road. Harry stepped away from them and they were immediately shrouded in the mist and fog. He ran his hand along the wall of the fence and felt a tingling at the tip of his fingers. It was if the very stone was acknowledging his presence.

The wooden slat gate hung off its hinges and opened into an overgrown patch of garden. He felt the dampness from the grasses soak his shoes and trouser legs. The windows stared blankly back at him as he walked up the short path to the front door. He understood from the old woman at the muggle hotel that the house had been a gatekeeper's house for the Manor- the large house he had seen earlier- in the valley. She had told him that a series of caretakers had lived in the house off and on for many years, but never stayed. It was either the old Manor that cast a spooky gloomy shadow over the valley or the little cottage itself had taken on a reputation for being haunted. No one wanted to stay long. She also reported that people called it the Potter Cottage but couldn't say where they had gotten the name.

Harry stepped to the door and placed a trembling hand on it. It swung inwards with a shocking screech. He stepped in and found the foyer empty as well as the two rooms that opened up on each side. There wasn't any furniture left in the house. The empty house was definitely an entryway into the wizarding world; he was sure. As he entered, he felt the familiar feeling of 'crossing a threshold', one that he had felt in many places; Grimmauld Place, Platform 9 3/4's, St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries.

"Hellooooo," he crooned with a steady voice, although he felt his heart beating hard in his ears. It wasn't a question, as if to ask if anyone was in the house. It was a way to greet his home. He followed the hallway to a set of stairs that led to the upper floor. He closed his eyes as he moved and let his hand follow the railing. The stairs were bare and creaked as he placed a foot carefully on each rise and with his mind he pictured the house as it might have been.

The house opened up at the top of the stairs into a circle and there were doors that led to three small rooms. They were as empty as the rooms below and he walked through them without a light, using only the dim illumination of the gray light shining through dirt encrusted windows.

Harry felt overwhelmed suddenly by his life and everything that had happened to him. With a strong longing to speak to his mother, he dropped to his knees in the room that had to have been his own nursery and saw clear drops splattering the thick dust on the floor. His hand reached up to his cheeks and he was surprised to find them wet with his own tears.

"Mother!" he wailed through clenched teeth. "Father! What I wouldn't give to see you or hear you one more time!" He rocked back and forth, his hands clenched in fists held tight to his heart. He stayed that way for a long time until he felt himself grow calm. Finally, opening his eyes he sat back on his heels, his hands dropping to his lap. As he did a thin beam of sunshine streamed in through the window, a sudden break in the overcast sky. The beam spilled over the floor in front of him and he looked at the area where it was glowing softly, noticing and yet not really consciously aware of what he was seeing.

"Harry," a whisper so soft, it sounded like a breeze, drifted through the room. "It's before you. Look!"

"Mother?" Harry jerked his head around and saw no one. "Is it you? Mother?" He asked the question knowing it was only his imagination and his deep desire to feel her presence that he was hearing the sound. And yet he was willing to believe; willing for her to be there and answer him.

Suddenly a stone materialized out of the air in front of his face and landed on the floor in front of him. It landed in the circle of his drying tears and didn't roll away although it was the size and roundness of a marble. It was as if through sheer will power he had materialized the stone to prove to himself that he wasn't dreaming.

He looked more closely at the spot and noticed a small notch in the wood of the floor. There was also an old mark on the floor that had marred the wood. Harry brushed at the dirt, leaned in and gently blew it away with his breath. He knew that mark. He had seen it on the grave stones in the cemetery. It was a scorch mark from the killing curse.

He reared back in disgust. _What if this is the curse that killed her_, he wondered. His fingers felt hot from the touch.

"Look again, my love. It's there."

He glanced around again wondering if he was dreaming. It was a voice that had spoken and yet it was so faint. He reached for the round stone and his fingers passed through it before it disappeared. He jerked his hand back involuntarily and ran his hand over the surface of the wooden floor again to satisfy himself that it was gone.

"Harry, you're going a bit mental," he said aloud, just as his fingers caught the edge of the notched wood. It drew his attention to one plank in the wood and he dug at it a little to see it more clearly. It was a loose plank and the edges were delineated once the dust had been removed. He pried with the tips of his fingers and pulled up a section that was very small and fit in the palm of his hand. Leaning in he peered into the opening and saw a piece of cloth lying in the crack. It covered an object that was about eight inches long and thin. Harry knew before touching it what it was; it was the shape of a wand. He looked around quickly and pulled it out of the hole and shucked the black velvet from it.

Laying in his open palm was a wizard's wand, gilt in fine gold with a lion's head emblazoned on the hilt and the words; _Godric Gryffindor_ etched in fine gold filigree along the handle.

__

Gryffindor's wand! Harry stared at it in astonishment. _My parent's had it! _And the voice that seemed to have drifted through the room suddenly whispered information in his ear. He started and took an deep agonized breath. _Is this what Voldemort wanted all along? Did he know they had it? _He struggled to his feet and walked to the window, rubbed a circle in it for more light and held it up to his eyes.

_Is this what they denied him? Did he ask for it three times and they refused? _The pieces seemed to fall in place. _Of course! _Voldemort had been on a quest to acquire items from each House at Hogwarts; a symbolic gesture. Each item was to be used to make a Horcrux. And in order to make one a person had to be murdered. _Was that why he had come to his parent's house? To steal the wand and make another Horcrux_?

"Wouldn't he have just died to lay his hands on this?" Harry whispered to the empty room. A strong emotion of anger and sorrow and even, strangely, glee swept over him. "You didn't get it though, did you? My parents were too clever. They died trying to stop you. And if that's what I have to do, then that's what I'll do."

Holding it safely to his chest he turned and surveyed the room once more. "Thank you mother. I love you." He walked from the room and down the stairs. "I'll come back home soon."

The walk into the valley was a long one. The lane at one time in bygone days had been wide enough to allow several carriages to pass one another. It was now a narrow pathway. The park that surrounded the Manor was huge and provided a wall of green protection from the world. A massive forest of trees surrounded them and they were flanked by a large lake. Harry thought it must be very pretty in the area if the sun were shining on it.

Now it had a strange claustrophobic atmosphere. They walked until the fog shifted and was diminished enough to see the white gabled roof of the mansion.

From a muggle point of view, the place was impressive. The manor was about four stories high, with a wing on each side of the center structure. There were dozens of gables and chimneys protruding from the roof and it appeared that there were hundreds of windows. A tall white tower rose from the center as if it were the steeple of a church. It was made of a white-gray stone that showed very little wear, at least from the distance that they stood. The woman in the village had told him the house itself was nothing more then bare walls and little more. Since the house was unfinished, the masons had not built many interior rooms. However, she reported that the main section was where tenants lived and that it did have living quarters.

They all stopped to look at it. Harry felt the presence of the wand pressed warmly against his chest, lending him a feeling of security and comfort.

"Is there a reason that you must see this place?' Snape asked him as they stood shoulder to shoulder in the drive.

It was the first time they had spoken since the night before. Harry glanced over and up slightly. He realized that he was now almost as tall as the man who stood beside him.

Snape turned to look at him "It is dangerous. The Dark Lord will have these places watched."

"He is expecting a visitor," a man's voice said.

Remus Lupin stepped out from the front gate, his wand pointed at Snape. Harry knew what was on his mind and before Lupin could act, he stepped in front of Snape.

"No, Remus!" Harry held his own wand up. He heard Snape's snarling hiss behind him.

"Stand away, Harry," Remus growled. "Are you mad?"

Harry shook his head. "No, you can't harm him! He didn't kill Dumbledore and I need him."

"What nonsense is this? What has he done to you?" Remus stepped forward.

Harry could feel Snape strong hands grab him and shove him aside. They were face to face with Draco remaining motionless behind them.

"Go ahead, Lupin," Snape snarled. His own wand was pointed at the man. "We've been destined to do this from the beginning."

Harry took two steps forward and stood between them. He glanced at Remus first and then Snape. "Stop this! Stop this now. I can't have you fighting each other. I need you both. We have a job to do and I can't have you injured or dead." He turned to his friend and pointed his wand at him. "Remus remember when I found Sirius at the Shrieking Shack. I swore that he was guilty and I wanted to kill him. You wouldn't let me, you wanted me to trust you. Now, I'm asking you to trust me."

Lupin looked deadly. Harry didn't think he'd ever seen the man's face filled with so much hate. The gray eyes turned to him and the hand that held the wand shivered slightly before he lowered it. He made no comment as he waited for Snape to do the same.

Harry next turned to Snape who maintained his dueling pose. "Drop your wand."

Snape glared at him and slowly dropped his own arm.

"Right then," Harry let out his breath as he spoke, "maybe we can talk about this quietly."

"What makes you think he didn't kill Albus Dumbledore?" Remus asked coldly. "You were there, Harry. You saw it with your own eyes. I saw him in Hogwarts, too. He even has his little protégé with him."

Snape smirked and remained quiet, watching Harry.

"I can't tell you why I trust him, Remus," Harry said almost pleading. He knew that Snape had told him his story and had not asked for his silence or to pledge that he keep it a secret. He also knew that there was no evidence to prove that Snape was telling the truth. "I only know that I trusted Dumbledore and he trusted Snape."

"Harry that is not enough!" It was Remus' turn to look concerned. "He is a Deatheater. It is their bread and butter to lie. What could you possible know that would convince you of his trustworthiness? And why have you brought him here?"

This time it was a female voice that cut through the dense fog that swirled around them.

"You have to tell him, Harry. If you don't, I will. You all have to have the complete story and not bits and pieces or else Voldemort will defeat us all." This time they all turned to see Hermione walking towards them.

"Hermione!" Harry frowned as she closed on them. He had not wanted any of his friends near him, especially in an area that was clearly very dangerous. "What are you doing here?"

"I came with information," she said stepping over to brush his cheek with a kiss and to take his hand. She stepped over next to Remus and put and arm around his neck with a quick hug. Finally, she moved to Snape and stared at him. "Voldemort didn't go to Hogwarts to kill Dumbledore, not expressly. He was on another mission wasn't he Professor? He hoped to get in and out before Dumbledore returned, isn't that right? Madam Rosmerta had sent word that Dumbledore had left the castle. Voldemort didn't expect him to return before he'd accomplished his mission."

Snape stared at her, squinting slightly. He continued to be silent.

"What are you talking about Hermione?" Harry moved closer to her and kept his voice low. Remus closed in behind him.

"Remus, Harry may not tell you and Professor Snape probably won't tell you, but Dumbledore believed that Voldemort had made seven Horcruxes using seven different objects that were pertinent to him. They included items connected to Hogwarts."

Lupin gasped in shock and Snape and Harry watched her. Harry felt a grim anger growing. "Hermione..." he didn't finish before she interrupted.

"Please, Harry, this is important. Remus should understand fully what is happening, because... well let me finish. Just trust me." She squeezed his hand and the worried look on her face made him pause. Harry had just asked Remus to trust him. He thought he should do the same for his closest friend.

She continued, "Professor Snape you told us that your mother was dead." She turned to him waiting for his response.

He drew in a hissing breath and drew himself up to full height. "What is this about?" he growled in his best schoolroom posture.

"She isn't," Hermione said simply.

One of his eyebrows went up a notch and he opened his mouth to speak.

She hurried on, "Your mother was the one who murdered your father. But she wasn't sent to Azkaban as everyone was led to believe. Dumbledore invited her back to Hogwarts and gave her a job as Defense Against the Dark Arts. She taught until your father found her there; tracked her down. She murdered him to protect herself and you. You had to keep it a secret that she was your mother because parents were not allowed to teach there. Dumbledore also protected you. Everyone thought that both of you had killed him. Dumbledore was a member of the Wizengamot and he persuaded them to let him deal with the matter. Since you were underage they could not send you to Azkaban for his death, but they thought they had given the order to send your mother. That was never carried out." She was almost breathless with the speed of her storytelling.

She turned to Harry and Remus and continued, "She was a brilliant witch and fell under Voldemort's spell. She was his first Deatheater and she helped him perform the magic that split his soul into seven parts. She taught him how to perform the Horcrux charm. But she was kept imprisoned," Hermione said it with a gulp, "at Hogwarts, by Dumbledore and her son." She turned to Snape.

Snape took in a ragged gasping breath and they looked at him. Harry felt suddenly nauseous as he absorbed what she had just said.

"She was insane," Hermione said softly. "It was for her own protection that both of you kept her there, wasn't it?. If she had been sent to Azkaban she would have died. As it was, Voldemort surmised that she was at Hogwarts since he could not find her anywhere else. He killed Madam Bones, Susan Bone's aunt who was the Head of the Law Enforcement Department at the Ministry to find out what happened to her. You see the dark lord needed Madam Prince." Hermione stopped and pulled her cloak close around her. "Dumbledore discovered the Horcruxes. He destroyed one and Harry destroyed the other. Voldemort knows that he is in danger so he wants her to put it right. He broke into Hogwarts to rescue her." She said the last defiantly and stopped. " Oh, and yes, that's the reason Albus Dumbledore trusted Professor Snape. They shared a secret in common."

"What?" Harry gasped.

"Horcruxes, my god!" Remus gasped.

"You are wrong," Snape said nastily. They all spoke simultaneously.

Hermione shook her head. "No, I'm not. I found the rooms where she was kept. They are near Dumbledore's living quarters. Dobby told me where they were. Dumbledore's house elves could not reveal their master's secrets as long as he was alive. It was only on his death that they could tell. You knew that your mother was capable of such magic, Professor. Harry told you about the Horcruxes and you knew who had helped Voldemort make them. The Potion's book belonged to her didn't it?"

Snape stood frozen in place and Harry looked at him in wonder.

"There were reasons why you taught at Hogwarts," Hermione said gently. "Your mother was still there. You were trying to keep the secret of her existence from him, from Voldemort. You were his servant because you could control the information that flowed to him. You didn't want him to learn that she lived and she lived near you. Now she's escaped."

Snape's shoulders sagged perceptibly and he ran a hand over his mouth and held it there looking at Hermione as if she had sprouted tentacles.

"Horcruxes!" Remus said again. They all looked at him. His face was even paler than the mist surrounding them and Harry thought for a moment that the man might faint away.

Hermione nodded. "There are seven."

"My god!" Remus managed and raised a shaky hand to his forehead. "Is that possible?"

Harry nodded. "I was with Dumbledore the night we tried to find one of them. They are encapsulated in objects that Voldemort chose. The attempt injured Dumbledore badly and I was trying to get him back to the castle that night. If it hadn't been for that, he would have been strong enough to fight off an attack. When he died he thought it was him." He nodded to Snape and then leaned against the crumbling wall of stone that had once surrounded the Manor. "Albus thought that one of the Horcruxes is Voldemort's snake, Nagini. The Professor is going to help me get to it." Harry said coldly and looked at Snape.

Remus stared at them and finally dropped down beside him on the stone wall. "Merlin's Beard!"

Snape finally appeared to gather himself together and folded his hands in front of him and stood watching them.

"You knew and didn't tell me?" Harry asked tiredly.

"I saw her that night. She went by me running alongside the Dark Lord. She was under the effects of Polyjuice potion, but I knew her. Before you showed up, she stopped and spoke to me," Snape said the words quietly. "What you all are not aware of is that he has let loose a fiend; an indescribable terror. At his side, the two will cut a swath through this world that will be unimaginable."

Harry felt his blood run cold at the words. This was his own mother that he was speaking about; speaking with as little emotion as a stone. He voiced his thoughts, "This is your own mother that you are talking about."

Snape looked at him and smirked. This time there was a slight tremor in his face. "Yes."

"We must kill her, too," Harry said without compassion.

"I have been searching for her to do that very thing," Snape responded. "I took some time to piece the puzzle of that night at Hogwarts together- to understand what had happened." He looked over at Remus. "I was not aware that she had helped Him perform the magic to make Horcruxes. But I think Miss Granger is correct. She has been turned loose so that she may undo what has been done or to find the rest."

Remus stood and said hoarsely, "We have to get to her quickly."

Snape nodded.

"This is going to be an impossible task," Remus said shaking his head and staring off into the fog.

"Not necessarily," Hermione said. She had been quiet since telling the story. They all turned to her. "With a little help, I think that we may be able to at least find her. You see, a few of us, well more than a few...we've managed to capture one of the enemy." She stopped and her gaze drifted over to the figure of Draco Malfoy.

Harry followed her glance. "Hermione," he groaned with impatience.

"We have Lucius Malfoy imprisoned at Hogwarts."


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter Nine Godric's Hollow

Hermione and Harry climbed the shallow steps to the entrance of Godric Manor, leaving the others waiting on the grounds. It was a wild overgrown garden that encircled the house and it emphasized the blank windows and ivy encrusted walls. White stone, cracked and stained, peeked out from the vegetation and made up the entirety of the manor. They found the front doors and the two stood looking up at the edifice towering over them. It seemed to almost be leaning out over them.

"Why do we have to go in?" Hermione asked tentatively.

"Why come all this way and not go in?" Harry replied, standing before the gigantic wooden doors. He looked over at her and she wrinkled her nose in disgust. Harry was a little surprised by her attitude. This was the ancestral home of Godric Gryffindor, the progenitor of their Hogwarts House. Of all the people in the world he thought that she would certainly want to see the ancestral home, and so, cocked his eyebrow quizzically at her in an unspoken question.

"Oh, all right," she moaned and stepped up beside him.

"So who's guarding, Malfoy?" Harry asked, softly.

"Ron, of course. He's in charge until I get back and he's got a dozen other students helping. We think Lucius was searching for Draco. He had help getting into the school. I think one of the Slytherin's."

Harry stopped and frowned at her, "A Slytherin!"

She nodded and continued up to the top stair and looked at the immense wooden doorway. A large ring served as a door knob and she reached for it gingerly. "Yes. I don't know why you're acting so surprised. They haven't changed their allegiances just because they are still at Hogwarts. Still it's hard to believe Lucius was searching for Draco out of fatherly concern. By the way, have your plans changed, Harry? Are you still planning on going to Knockturn Alley?"

They climbed the stairs slowly and talked softly. "I think if I am right and Voldemort is trying to undo what he has done, and he has released his 'teacher' from her imprisonment to help him do that, then... ." He stopped speaking as they reached the top stair, staring at the huge door before him.

She finished his sentence, "Then, he'll bring all of the objects he needs together in one place in order to do it." She emphasized the word 'objects'.

He nodded without looking at her. "It would save a lot of time searching for them. We can let him do the work."

She stepped to the door and kept speaking even as she pressed against it, "That may be a good thing or a terrible thing... here...help me." She had her shoulder to the door and was shoving. Together, they put their shoulders to the doors and were able to swing the door open. "I mean it would be an opportunity to destroy those objects, if it were possible. And you definitely need to do that. But it also means he'll have them close by, guarding them. That's not so good."

"Hermione, don't forget that I'm not the only one that can destroy those objects. Dumbledore had already cracked the ring."

"Yes, I'm aware of that Harry."

He continued, " I also don't think Lucius was after Draco. I think he knew that Snape had him and that his own wife was murdered by his master. I'm sure he got the news pretty quickly. No, I think Lucius was after something else. Either he was there serving Voldemort or there on his own." Harry stopped in the entrance. They studied the interior. "It will be interesting to question him."

Hermione snorted, "If he'll tell us anything."

"Shall we?" Harry asked and stepped forward.

With their wands extended, they entered the cavernous foyer that was the heart of the large manor house. Windows allowed in dim gray light and the hall was filled with shadows and dark corners. It was clear, even through the gloom, that at one time it had been a magnificent house.

The floor was covered with rubbish and dust from years of neglect and yet, the intense colors of the marble glimmered where there were scuff marks made by their feet. Harry noticed that there were numerous marks and footprints on the floor. He pointed his wand at them as they moved through the room.

To their left a long sweeping staircase hugged the wall and curled upward to the floors above them. Stained glass windows rose like upright spears above each step and scenes of knights on horseback and other medieval pageantry were depicted on them. As they surveyed the area, it was clear that much of what had been grand about the house had been taken away or stolen. The area where an immense chandelier lit the entryway was now void of such ornamentation. A grand fireplace setting on one wall would have been a welcoming asset if it had a roaring fire in it. Now it sat empty, a void in the whiteness of the wall.

The house did not echo their footsteps or voices. It was as if it were cushioned in some protective way.

"You know, Harry," Hermione mumbled, "Snape was right. It is dangerous to be here. Voldemort will have people spying on such places as this. He might even guess that you would choose to come here."

Harry proceeded towards the rear of the building, crossing the floor of the foyer and turning his head to check out the rooms on each side. The doors that may have hidden them from view had long since disappeared. On the right was what appeared to have been a large dining room and the left was even larger, indicating a possible ballroom. When Hermione spoke, he turned to her and waited for her to catch up. Both of them were almost on tiptoe, as if their presence might disturb the atmosphere of the house.

"So how did you find me?" he whispered, continuing their conversation from outside and then said "Lumos." The tip of his wand brightened and he held it aloft to check the ceiling. The house was not without grandeur even in its' abandoned state. The ceiling appeared to have once been gilded with gold for there were still specks of it still glittering overhead like little stars in the night sky.

"The initiation," Hermione answered.

"The what...oh!" Harry gasped a little too loudly, stopped and gritted his teeth. He hated subterfuge and glared at her..

She noticed the look on his face and nodded. "I knew you wouldn't keep us aware of your movements so I persuaded Remus to do it." She noticed his sudden arched eyebrow. "Oh, stop worrying about it, Harry." She finished quickly, "Ron and I are under the same incantation. If it saves your life, you'll thank me someday. And if it saves ours, I'll thank you. Now shall we proceed?" The defiant look on her face was familiar.

Harry huffed and continued ahead of her. "Fine!"

They had entered rooms at the back of the central house. The rooms were a montage of kitchens, preparation rooms, and pantries adjacent to the main quarters where servants performed their activities.

"Do you notice anything strange, Harry?" Hermione asked, now pointing her lit wand around the large kitchen where they had stopped. There was a large brick fireplace with adjoining ovens and long stone tables that were used for food preparation that ran the length of the room. Windows lined one wall and light shone over the sinks that remained attached to the wall.

He looked around and nodded. "Clean," he murmured.

The floors of polished marble were spotless and there were no traces of leaves and old rubbish, cobwebs or even a layer of dust on the surfaces.

She nodded and pointed towards the walk-in fireplace. There were ashes in the grate. Not the pile of ashes expected if the kitchen was in full use, but those of a fire built for one person; a cooking fire. She stepped to the scorched brick opening, bent over and touched the sooty grate with her finger. "Do you suppose a vagrant or someone comes in and stays to get out of the weather? Something like that?" She glanced up at him with a worried expression.

Harry shrugged and said, "We are in the wizarding world, Hermione. Couldn't you feel it when we crossed the threshold? No muggle broke in here."

She looked around them again and shivered involuntarily. " Harry, this house is huge. The wings may be empty or incomplete but the main house has been occupied throughout the centuries. Finding this just means someone- witch or wizard- was here, and recently. I think we should leave now."

"In a minute," Harry answered and stepped to the window to look out. He could see only the drifting mist and fog that camouflaged what lay outside the windows, turning the garden statuary into odd shapes and figures. There was one that was particularly surreal with outstretched arms and hanging head. It looked like a grotesque scarecrow draped in seaweed or moss. He blinked twice and the figure was encapsulated in fog.

"Why is it important for us- for you- to be here?" she asked.

Harry shook his head and continued to turn slowly and look at the large room. He finally allowed his eyes to remain in one spot, a corner. The space was in shadow and the color of the sooty blackened fireplace. He squinted and raise his wand and stepped forward.

"Come out."

Hermione turned her head to look at the area.

"We thinks that you are trespassing," a quivering voice said. "We thinks that you should leave as the muggle-born suggested."

Harry stepped over and leaned in. "Get up!"

"Hoagie doesn't obey a strange wizard." A face appeared out of the gloom. It was the picture of age, lined with wrinkles and the shade of slate. The body was so twisted and gnarled either from starvation or old age that the creature barely looked alive.

Harry couldn't guess how old the house elf was, but it was clear that he was very old. He lowered his wand when Hermione stepped over and placed her hand on his arm.

"Who, who are you?" she asked gently.

"We are Hoagie, servant to the House of Gryffindor," he answered. The last words were almost a breathless whisper as if it had siphoned off all his strength to speak them.

"But you can't be!" Harry mumbled. "Godric Gryffindor has been dead over a thousand years. Even house elves don't live that long!" He turned to Hermione, "Do they?"

She stared at the wizened figure and shook her head. "Even _Hogwarts; A History _doesn't talk about elves living that long. Hoagie? Is that right? Hoagie? You must be the house elf for the descendents of Godric Gryffindor. Is there a living heir? Someone still in the house?" She had knelt down seeing that the elf struggle to rise to his feet. He looked unsteady.

"Hoagie is waiting to serve a master he has never met," was the elf's reply.

Harry squinted in the gloom and felt the Gryffindor wand pressing warmly against his heart. "You have never met the master you serve, but you have served others before him...or her. Who were your other masters?"

The elf rubbed at his chin and the long ears waggled in the air. Harry knew how to read that particular action. He had seen it in Dobby when the elf was being purposefully evasive.

"We are not here to hurt you or anyone," Harry continued. "We are students at Hogwarts and are in the House of Gryffindor."

The elf looked at him with wide green eyes and then turned to Hermione. "That is true?"

She nodded.

The elf eased himself to the ground and pulled a ragged blanket around his shoulders. It reminded Harry of the articles of clothing and objects that they had found with Kreacher at No.#12 Grimmauld Place. He had yet to find an elf dressed appropriately and cleanly except at Hogwarts.

"Our last was Master Potter. He is dead this many a year," the voice sighed. "We have only the child that survived to serve; but we have not met him."

Harry stumbled back a foot and leaned against the row of sinks. Hermione slapped a hand across her mouth and gasped in surprise. They turned to look at one another.

"Har...Harry, that means you are a descendent of Gryffindor." She turned to the elf. "Hoagie, the man who stands before you is the son of James Potter!"

The elf bowed slowly at the waist, his head almost touching the floor. Harry cringed as he watched, wondering if bending might break him in half. Hermione's hand reached out to support him but did not touch the grayed figure.

"Hoagie is pleased to serve his new master," the elf said and finally managed to straighten himself. "We have waited many years and Hoagie was not sure the Child-Who-Lived still lived."

"Hoagie, are you saying that you served my parents? You were their house elf?" Harry gasped.

The elf nodded.

"We have been in the Potter family for seven generations," the elf said proudly and his long skeletal hand was placed on his chest as if to swear an oath. "Hugo Potter was our master when we were but a elfling."

Harry and Hermione stared at each other in shocked surprise. Hermione mouthed the words, 'Seven generations!' and Harry nodded. They looked at the elf who remained sitting, hand pressed to his chest and his eyes closed. All of a sudden a snore erupted from his still form and Hermione threw a hand back over her mouth to stifle the laughter.

"He's fallen asleep, Harry." She grinned. "How old do you think he is, then?"

He shook his head and walked slowly over to the old elf and put a hand on his shoulder, bending as he did and waiting until the green eyes opened.

"We think that you are trespassing," the elf growled.

"Hoagie, it's me, Harry Potter," Harry said gently. "You said you served my parents when they were living."

Hoagie seemed to recall the recent conversation and nodded silently, staring up at Harry with the wand light illuminating Harry's face.

"Hoagie knows your face, Master," the old elf seemed to come alive and transfigure from the stick of a figure he had been a moment before into a living breathing figure. "We are here to serve you, Master."

"Hoagie, have there been other intruders?" Harry asked. "Wizards here looking for something?"

Hoagie nodded vigorously, searched the expanse of the kitchen with his eyes and leaned in to whisper conspiratorially, "Evil wizards, Master. The one they call Voldemort. Many are afraid of him Master, but not I. I have lived to watch the world bear many an evil wizard and they have come and gone. Do not fret about this one. He will also go the way of the others."

"When was he here, Hoagie?" Hermione asked.

"It is welcoming to our hearts to have a muggle-born here in this house once again," the elf said and tried a smile that turned into a grimace. "Madam Potter was a muggle-born and was very kind to Hoagie. We loves her and Master Potter and now we have his son to serve." Hoagie looked back up at Harry with admiration.

"Can you answer Hermione's question ,Hoagie?" Harry asked. "When was the evil wizard here?"

"Oh we cannot say," Hoagie replied and shook his head disconcertedly. "Time has little meaning for us now. But he left behind a spy."

"He did!" Harry croaked and shifted to survey the shadows in the kitchen.

"Master need not worry. Hoagie has taken care of that one," Hoagie nodded firmly.

They were both staring at him dumbfounded when another voice intruded.

"Well, if it isn't Hoagie! I thought you were long since dead." Remus Lupin stood in the doorway and behind him were Snape and Draco. He entered and walked slowly towards the elf who was now cowering down.

"You shouldn't be afraid," Lupin continued. "Don't you recognize me old elf?"

Hoagie peered around Hermione's shoulder and up at the man who stood next to Harry.

"Hoagie knows the smell of the wolf," Hoagie answered grumpily. "We knows ye."

Lupin laughed gently and bent over saying, "We are the only ones left, you and I. We are old friends from long ago- so mind your manners."

Hoagie managed a sheepish look.

"Remus, Hoagie was saying that Voldemort was here and left someone behind," Harry whispered.

"We've searched the house and there is no one here. Who was it Hoagie?" Remus was now speaking more sternly and the elf was once again in a posture of deep sleep. "Hoagie, I remember your tricks very well. Now tell me who it was and where he is?"

The elf opened one eye and smirked, "It was another who says he is a friend of Master Potter who indeed was not. I swear by Merlin's beard that he was a traitor!" Hoagie looked back at Remus defiantly.

Snape was now standing with them and Draco drifted to the edge of the room and stared at a blank wall.

"He means Pettigrew," Snape said casually.

They all looked back at Snape who was staring at the elf with his grim, granite-face.

"Where is he, Hoagie?" Remus asked sharply, this time taking a menacing step towards the elf.

"Remus," Harry said quickly, "it's alright." Harry was reminded that he now had several house elves 'serving' him and wondered at the idea. This time he knew what he needed to do. " Hoagie, I am asking you to tell us where Peter Pettigrew is."

Hoagie looked up once again at Harry and sighed. "He is in the garden. There." He looked towards the windows that were becoming even more gray with the dimming light. "He finds a purpose by feeding the birds."

Hermione got up slowly and walked to the window while Remus and Snape dropped their wands and relaxed. Harry watched them and then waited. It was obvious that the elf wasn't going to elaborate and Lupin and Snape understood the coded message. For a moment he gritted his teeth in frustration and wanted to grumble at them and then realized that he had seen Pettigrew. He had seen the scarecrow figure in the garden with large black crows resting on its arms, pecking away at the straw tucked into the sleeves.

"What?" he asked. "What does he mean?"

"Oh, I wouldn't worry about it much, Harry. Elves aren't allowed to kill a human being without suffering severe penalties. But Hoagie is a wise house elf, aren't you?" He glanced over at the elf who had settled himself down in the corner again. "I imagine that Hoagie means that Peter is outside tending the garden in some way. Are we speaking of above the ground or below it Hoagie?" Remus asked curiously and then proceeded to look over his fingernails carefully.

Harry heard Snape snort and he jerked his head to catch the look on the man's face. He was met with the usual beady black eyes staring at him.

"So Hoagie, I see you have met your new master at last," Remus smiled at the elf and waved a hand at Harry. "I thought perhaps you might recognize him, he looks very much like James did, don't you think?"

"Harry," Hermione voiced her concern, pressing her nose to the window and her breath was fogging it. "What do you think has happened to him?" She was peering into the growing darkness.

Harry studied Snape's face and knew that this was a critical moment. He couldn't say why he felt it was so, but he knew that if he pursued the issue that he would somehow lose the support of both men who stood in the kitchen. He had stood up for Pettigrew once in the Shrieking Shack. Now he needed to move beyond that and accept the man's fate whatever it was.

Hermione turned and looked at him with a small frown on her face and then waited silently.

"Hoagie," Harry turned to the elf. "Were they looking for something when they came? Who was with the dark wizard besides Pettigrew?"

The elf leaned out from the shadows and answered, "We see only three. The one called Voldemort, the fat ratsy one and the woman. Hoagie thinks they are looking for something special, but we do not know what it is."

"Yes," Harry said nodding and once again felt the long tubular wand pressing on his chest. "Describe the woman for us."

Hoagie waved a hand irritably at him and moaned, "Humans are all ugly. This one was no beauty. She had many years on her face, but her hair was black. Like that of the one who stands there behind you. They look like one another. Do you bring a dark wizard here with you? This one feels dark." The elf moved his mouth as if feeling for a long forgotten particle of food. The elf pulled the rotten blanket closer and Hermione once again joined him on the floor and sat protectively close by.

"It is she," Snape said. "It is my mother."

Lupin's face grew solemn. "So it is as we suspected? He is looking for some object that has become lost to him?"

Harry knew what they were talking about. He knew that Voldemort was truly gathering his Horcruxes again. And he had Madam Prince with him. It could only mean that he wanted her to help him recombine his soul parts into one; or what was left of them. There might be another purpose but Harry knew it could not be good under any conitions.

"I think it's time we talk to Lucius," Harry said and glanced at Hoagie. "And I think, if we can find him, Slughorn. We have to know whether Madam Prince is capable of doing what Voldemort wants her to do."

"Harry, we can't leave him behind," Hermione nodded at Hoagie. "Not in this place."

"Hoagie," Harry knelt down beside the elf.

"Yes, master?" the old elf raised himself up.

"Hoagie I want you to go down to the cottage at the end of the drive," he began.

"Hoagie's home!" The elf exclaimed.

Harry nodded. "I want you to clean it up and fill it with furniture and make it a home again. I will be back sooner or later and I want to live there. Remus is my father's old friend and he will help you. He can bring you money or whatever you need. I will send another house elf along to help you." He was thinking of Dobby and mindful of the frailty of the elf before him and the task he had set for him.

"Hoagie does not need help," the elf snarled.

"This is a young elf, Hoagie. One who will need your guidance. He needs to learn from you."

Hermione smiled and stood with him as they prepared to leave. "Goodbye, Hoagie." She moved over to grab Draco by the arm and guide him from the room. Remus followed her and Harry was just passing Snape.

"Perhaps I have been wrong all along. Perhaps you do have the heart of a warrior," Snape said quietly and with a hint of admiration.

Harry knew what he meant. By not rescuing Pettigrew, he had shown Snape his willingness to harden his heart and do what was necessary. He didn't like the idea that Snape might change his mind about him. He hadn't changed his about the man. He stopped in front of him, looked him in the eye and said, "What I don't have, is the heart of a murderer. That's why I want you to go out and cut him down. If he is still alive we may be able to use him." He stepped around the man and followed the others out of the mansion.


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter Ten The Sorting

Snape left them at the foot of the stairs at the front entrance and made his way around the house to the back garden. With uncanny stealth, he wove his way through statues and large fountains, their bowls dry and filled with leaves, and across to the area opposite the kitchen windows. He stood for a moment staring at the crucified man who hung on the cross bows of an old tree and watched for signs of life.

His injured wand hand twitched with the need to vent his anger. The Potter boy had done it once again. Somehow he always managed to target the emotion that Snape struggled to control.

Pettigrew rolled slightly from right to left, more like a hangman swaying from his noose.

"Shall we kill you now or let you live," Snape asked the man. "He would never know." Snape was referring to Harry and also not necessarily talking to the man swinging above him. With a grunt, he climbed the small steps and using his wand untangled the body from the branches of the encroaching tree and let Pettigrew drop, unceremoniously and rather hard, onto the ground.

He stooped over enough to detect the motion of the man's chest moving up and down and then waved his wand over him again and levitated him off the ground. Snape loathed the man and it was all he could do not to put an end to him and rid himself of the bother. He took no time in repairing the wounds that the birds had wrought and thought it rather satisfying to see that the silver hand was gone and that the birds had pecked out both eyes.

As he moved him through the fog, Snape thought of Potter. The scene in the kitchen was uncomfortable and served to rile him but he realized that the boy was acting differently, and had been since they met at the Riddle Mansion.

Snape knew that he had twisted the truth on purpose as he always had with almost everyone. He had lied... about some issues. He didn't expect Harry to believe him anyway and if he did, it was to the good as far as Snape was concerned. If Potter was truly the Chosen One then he needed to keep a watch on him. What better way then to remain in his company. _Better yet_, he thought, _They have Lucius and he will be of some help if I can get him to talk. Horcruxes! _He shuddered involuntarily. _The Dark Lord will be almost impossible to kill. And he has mother with him._

Ever one to be a survivor, Snape was not enjoying the company he was keeping but he also knew that it was the best place for him to be. He needed to find out what Potter knew or had been told by Dumbledore, what had happened to Draco and to discover Voldemort's plans. There was nothing to be done until he knew more about the Horcruxes.

He maneuvered the body around the corner and picked up the voices, talking in low tones. He stopped and held his breath to listen.

"Harry, are you coming to Hogwarts through the cabinets," Hermione asked.

"No. I think that when the time comes, we'll use that for special purpose," Harry answered. "I don't think the Dark Lord will think we will cross country on foot or use the floo network or even brooms. He'll know that we'll apparate and that we can't be tracked. I think he's probably had us followed here, maybe by Pettigrew, and maybe by others who aren't making themselves known. But I don't take it for granted anymore that he's lost me altogether."

"Why do you say that?" Hermione asked.

"I think he was looking for something and he wanted me to do the work of finding it." Harry answered. "We'll be in more danger as soon as we leave here then we were when we arrived. I told you the last time I saw you that I wouldn't just wander into Godric's Hollow like a tourist. And I didn't. I do have a plan."

Remus said something and Snape moved closer watching where he stepped so that no twig cracked underfoot.

"If I were him I would want to go back to the place I thought of as home," Harry answered.

"But we've already checked the orphanage, Harry," Hermione argued. "The place is a shell of a house, boarded up and empty for years."

"I don't think he ever thought of that place as home, Hermione," Harry turned in Snape's direction as if wondering why it was taking him so long. Snape stepped back into the shadows and moved Pettigrew's body to the ground under a tree. "Remember, we are alike in many ways. We are both orphans... well there are similarities and more of them since he possessed me. Dumbledore thought that he transferred a lot of his powers and his memories to me when he tried to kill me. I've started to connect with that. Don't laugh Hermione but it feels like I'm channeling his energy sometimes. Anyway, I think that he will want to go back to Hogwarts. Possessing it or conquering it, however you want to say it, would be important to him, I think."

The girl didn't laugh. She stared at her friend with a look of slight disgust on her face. "That must be an awful feeling?" she managed. "Well we will have to double the guard." She shook her mane of hair. "Never mind about that."

"We are out in the open and it is dangerous to talk about these things here," Remus said quietly. "Let's check on Snape and move out of here. I need to know where you'll end up. Hermione will know because of the initiation incantation but it would be wise if I also knew." Remus raised both hands in a sign of surrender when he saw Harry's expression. "I know, I know. She told me you wouldn't like it, but you can be as hard headed as your father was. And I wanted a way to track you if you got into trouble."

Harry nodded and said, "It's alright. I'm going to rely on Snape to get us out of the immediate vicinity. He's rather good at that kind of thing I would think. We'll end up in the place I first saw Sirius." He looked pointedly at both of them and they both nodded.

"All right," Remus said. " I'll be at headquarters. Let me know what, if anything, you get from Malfoy. Or if you need help in doing it. You might not want to let McGonagall know what you're about, if you take my meaning."

Hermione nodded and gave him a hug and Harry shook his hand.

"Don't trust Snape completely, Harry," Remus said. "I need to check into this Horcrux thing and learn more about them. I can't imagine! Seven!" He shook his head and then, vanished.

Snape sniffed loudly and moved through the fog towards them. The girl gasped at the sight of Pettigrew's face as he maneuvered the prone man's body through the swirling mist and fog.. Snape watched Harry closely. The boy didn't flinch or try to help the man.

__

Good, Snape thought, _Maybe he is learning something_.

"Hermione you need to leave, too," Harry said taking her by the arm and ushering her away from the suspended body. "Make sure Lucius is still there. I'll come through the tunnel under the Whomping Willow tonight."

"Miss Granger if you expect to learn anything from Lucius Malfoy it would behoove you to try and make the Veritaserum potion," Snape remarked easily as he watched them.

The girl glared briefly and reached inside her traveling cloak and removed a vial. She stepped over and handed it to him. He knew without giving it more than a glance that it was clear and of good quality. Her abilities had always surprised him. She had few natural magical gifts, he reflected, however, she was diligent. He bowed slightly and handed it back to her without speaking. Snape knew that he was neither in the enemy's camp or a friend's.

She turned and stepped back to Harry, glancing once at Snape as she kissed the boy on the cheek. "I'll take Draco with me to Hogwarts."

"Can you do side-along apparition?" Harry asked.

She stepped to Draco's side and turned with her arm on his to vanish and leave only the three of them.

"Perhaps it is not wise to reveal your plans by speaking them aloud in such a place as this," Snape murmured.

Harry looked at him, ignoring the body that floated before them and the remark. "Do you have a good idea how we can escape this valley undetected?" he asked in such a soft voice that was even below a whisper; his lips did not move.

Snape nodded, unsure about who was playing who. The look in the boy's eyes told him stories. _Ah, so you know that you are being overheard_, Snape thought. _Trying to draw the Dark Lord to you? _he wondered and narrowed his eyes.

Harry stood for a moment and then said, still in a low voice, "Snape did you ever learn about the entire prophecy?"

Severus felt his breath catch and he waited without answering.

He saw the boy take his silence as a no. In truth Severus had never heard the whole prophecy. Dumbledore had never told him even though he had tried to question him about it. The old wizard had been very evasive. The next question surprised him even more.

"Did you know that when the Sorting Hat was trying to sort me the first night I went to Hogwarts; it tried to put me in Slytherin House," Harry said it with his hand pressed against his chest.

Snape frowned and remained silent, wondering what the catch was; what the boy was doing..

"Do you feel that you are truly a Slytherin? That the Sorting Hat didn't make a mistake when it sorted you?" he asked.

Snape studied the area around them and said as quietly as he could, "These are a child's questions. I am not a student at Hogwarts anymore and neither are you." Harry turned and looked at him with such a sober, somber look that he gritted his teeth and answered. "Yes, if you must know. I feel that it is in my blood."

In truth, staring into that face, that horribly familiar face- a Potter face- Snape remembered the night of his own sorting with such clarity, a bitter cry had almost escaped his lips.

He remembered arriving on the Hogwarts Express and the stormy night . He had never known how to make friends, how to approach the others and so, was standing on the platform alone until Hagrid had rounded them up and placed them in boats. Severus had looked with wonder at the castle that peeked out from angry black skies, looked at it with hope and longing. His mother was already there and they were going to have a different life. He'd left his horrible father and he needed something that would lift him out of the depression he felt. His heart ached for it.

He entered the doors of the Main hall along with the other first years. He was not the only one to notice the dark haired boy with glasses and the one that stood next to him. They were chatting with a boy of sandy colored hair and gray eyes and they were laughing. Severus watched them with a mixture of jealousy and wistfulness. He wanted to be a part of the small group. He also knew that the way he looked, the way he dressed, his own bashfulness always made him stand out in every crowd he'd ever been in. He hated it; he hated himself.

It was when the eyes turned to him, the smile remaining there that he felt his heart harden. He waited. The boy and his new friends were going to treat him badly. It always happened that way and he steadied himself and waited for it. He looked back into the eyes. _Was there pity there? Hatred, disgust? No, not that. What? _Severus stepped back and behind a girl in front of him. The eyes turned away.

The class made their way to the front of the hall and each took turns stepping to the three legged stool. When Severus took his seat he could feel his mother's eyes upon him. She had been in Ravenclaw. But since they had known the man named Riddle, she had said more than once that she would feel shame if he was not placed in Slytherin. The boy, James Potter and his friend Sirius Black stared at him as the hat was placed on his head.

The hat spoke to him. "Yes, yes. Many good qualities that need to be nurtured here. It seems to me Gryffindor is the place that you should be."

"No, no!" Severus hissed. "It can't be. She'll hate me; she'll make my life miserable. It has to be Slytherin."

"Ah, such a waste, but Slytherin it shall be." The hat spoke the name aloud and Snape slipped from the chair. Still staring back at James Potter, he moved to the Slytherin table and finally turned to look into his mother's eyes. The words that played over and over in his mind as he sat there was, 'I hate you mother, I hate you'.

Snape felt the bile rising in his throat once again. He wanted to scream. There was no trace of his emotions written on his face.

Harry nodded and seemed to relax. "Good, good. Now, we need to leave." His head dropped and Snape prepared to take Pettigrew and apparate when the head came up again. "My friends and others... as soon as the Dark Lord finds the objects he's looking for, people will start dying."

Severus heard the question even though it was phrased as a statement. He answered. "Yes, and she will be among the first." He nodded towards the place where Hermione had disapparated. He did not do it to be cruel.

Harry nodded. "So we will know that he has found them all when the bloodshed begins," he continued without waiting for a response, "One other thing."

Snape was feeling the fog closing in and creatures stirring and moving closer. "Be quick about it, Potter."

"If I order you to do something, will you take my orders?" Harry said it, not as a student or a child, but as a man to another man.

Snape considered the question and then nodded once.


	11. Chapter 11

Ch 11 Trelawney and Neville

Harry finally thought he knew what he was doing, at least until he met Neville on the stairs going from the first floor of Hogwarts. Hermione had met he and Snape and let them through the protective incantations at the front gate. Snape had gone with her to interrogate Malfoy and Harry was headed up the steps to Dumbledore's old office.

He'd been warned by Hermione that getting into the office was very difficult due to Professor McGonagall's charms. He wanted to try because he was finally ready to see the portrait of Dumbledore that hung on the wall. He fingered the slip of paper Hermione had shoved into his fist with a long list of answers that the door to Dumbledore's office would ask him.

He'd been running on instinct alone, both at Godric's Hollow and now inside the castle; his one and only home. It felt really good to be inside Hogwarts but also disappointing that he could not expose himself to the students or see his old friends. He wanted Dumbledore's portrait to confirm his suspicions and perhaps to offer some advice.

He was approaching the step where he had caught his leg in the night carrying the Triwizard Tournament egg and skipped over it with a feeling of nostalgia and light heartedness. _Old times_, he thought. He was thinking of the memories of times past as almost another lifetime. Compared with his current situation, he felt he had a right to look at the past in that way. He was also aware that he was drawn by his heart to go to Gryffindor Tower and seek Ginny out. Somehow as he slipped up the stairs the feeling vanished. He was living a different life now, he told himself. One that could not include her.

"Stop!" the voice was loud.

Harry turned slowly, knowing that a wand was pointed at him. When he saw who it was he let out a sigh. "Neville?"

The boy stepped into the light. His wand was out and the hand that held it trembled. "Harry? Harry!"

A second later Harry was enveloped in the boy's arms and squeezed.

"Harry are you back? Thank goodness! It's good to see you!" Neville was shaking him by the shoulders. Harry noticed that he was taller by and inch or so. "I didn't recognize you because of your hair. And...and, you look so different!"

"Shush, Neville," Harry pulled him into the shadows. "We have to be quiet. No, I'm not back. I've come..."

"Because of Malfoy, I know," Neville immediately quieted. "The D.A. is in charge of the castle and security. Course, Professor McGonagall doesn't know that. Harry, I am so glad you're here. You've got to come with me!"

Harry was already disengaging himself and ready to move on and dismiss Neville. The boy pulled him back by the robes.

"Harry, you've got to listen to me," Neville was whispering but so ferociously that Harry knew they could be overheard if a student entered the hall.

"Neville, I don't have much time. I've got to go..." again he was interrupted.

"Harry, I know that I am the Chosen One," Neville stopped tugging and pulling on his robes.

Harry stopped and turned to look him full in the face. "How...who...never mind Neville. It's too late. It doesn't matter."

"You don't understand, Harry. I know what you're doing for me. I know that Voldemort made a mistake. It should have been me...with the scar."

"Who told you?" Harry grunted in shock.

"Dumbledore. His portrait," Neville explained and went on, "He told me the prophecy and how Voldemort chose you because you were half-blood like him."

"Neville," Harry dropped his head in exasperation. " It doesn't matter anymore. Voldemort went to my parents house that night to get something they had. He killed them because he couldn't find it; they had hidden it. I got the scar because my mother sacrificed herself so I could live. The prophecy is worthless. It doesn't tell us anything. it doesn't give us any answers."

"It says that you have to kill him or he has to kill you," Neville said and Harry could see tears springing to his eyes. "What it really means is that I should have been the one to kill him."

Harry shrugged his shoulders and started to turn. "No, Neville it doesn't mean that. And it's too late. When he tried to kill me he transferred some of his powers to me, made it so I could read his mind. I now know that I have to be the one. Whether it started out to be you or me, it's now my job. There are things that you don't know about, Neville. A lot has happened and I don't have time to explain."

"That may be true, Harry," Neville said it calmly, "and maybe I can't take your place now. But I want to, you know. I really do!"

Harry nodded sympathetically. "I have to go now, Neville," he said it gently. stepping away and trying to disengage.

"No, Harry, you don't understand. I'm trying to tell you that I may not be the one who ends up killing Voldemort, but I KNOW HOW to kill him."

Harry stopped dead in his tracks once again.

"It's true. Just come with me to see Professor Trelawney. She can explain it better than I can." Neville nodded somberly and watched his friend's face.

"Neville." The minute Harry heard the name Trelawney he immediately discounted what Neville said. "She drinks too much and she's a fraud."

"Is she, Harry? Is she really?" Neville stepped forward, this time towering slightly over him. "That's what everybody thinks. But I've been taking her class." His voice dropped. "I didn't get many O.W.L.S. so I had to fill my time. I went to her class, me and a few other seventh years. She's stopped drinking, Harry. And, she was right about something; she predicted Dumbledore's death. She also made the Prophecy and what she's told me recently makes sense too. I can prove it. If you'll just come with me." This time Neville was not pleading, but looking at Harry as if he knew that Harry knew it was the right thing to do and he was just being stubborn. "If you could find a way to kill Voldemort would it be worth it to you?"

Harry studied his friend's face. Neville had grown a lot in many ways. The face was no longer pudgy and simple. Neville had proven himself to be a good friend. He had gone to the Department of Mysteries in the Ministry; he had fought along side him. Harry knew that he had even improved on his spell work. People had been making fun of him since they had started Hogwarts. Harry understood what that felt like.

He nodded in agreement.

Neville's face brightened and he looked up and down the hall conspiratorially and walked in front of him. They moved quickly without being seen and climbed the tower to the lofty aerie.

The room was as Harry remembered it, although the fire was not lit and it wasn't as warm. Neville went before him and slipped under a tapestry of woven silver-threaded unicorns and indigo blue skies. Trelawney and Neville's muffled voices drifted to him as he sat at one of the tables, chin on his hand and waited.

Harry felt the strangeness of sitting in the room he had once been in as a student. He remembered, with a sense of gloom, how the woman had persistently predicted his imminent demise. He thought he would listen to what they had to say and then excuse himself. Hermione, Ron and Snape would be waiting or him. He was anxious to get away and go to Dumbledore's office and the night was slipping away. Harry knew that time was now precious.

Professor Trelawney was led into the room by Neville who now looked like a full grown man beside her. She saw Harry and grabbed at Neville's arm dramatically screeching, "He has returned!"

"Professor Trelawney," Neville said and gently removed her hand.

She looked up at him and then dipped her head for a moment. "All right." The voice was down-to-earth and did not have the quality of her usual out-of-this-world breathiness.

He led her to the table and they sat. With a wave of his hand, Harry lit the globe of light in front of them. It was reflected in her bottle-top glasses and her eyes took on the surreal look of a goldfish staring at him through it's bowl.

"Go on," Neville urged.

She withdrew a stack of cards from her apron pocket and laid them on the table. She quickly shuffled them and began to lay them on the table in a pattern. Harry watched. He was familiar with her movements because he had practiced reading the cards himself. At the time, they held little interest to him and he hadn't done well in that particular exercise. However, he remembered the night he had met her in the hallway on his way to see Dumbledore and even in her drunken state she had been talking about seeing Dumbledore's death in them. It was enough to keep Harry silent and watching.

"I've done this a thousand times since his death," Professor Trelawney began. Her attitude was unnaturally steady and serious. "I knew I wasn't wrong the first time. People never believe me, but I do have visions and intuitions. Dumbledore...Dumbledore should have listened..." The aching moan escaped her lips and her hands shook for a moment.

"Professor," Neville's calming voice seemed to steady her again.

She glanced at him and then stole a look at Harry. She continued with the cards. "Here we have the Magician." She turned the first one over. It was the figure of a wise man, not unlike the appearance of the deceased Dumbledore. "The magician is a skillful and powerful magus. He raises his wand to heaven, calls on all his powers and casts a spell that falls to earth as a great web of possibilities." She glanced at Harry who had raised an eyebrow as if saying, 'that doesn't make sense'. She sighed deeply and splayed her long-nailed hand over the card. The baubles and necklaces that hung from her neck clanged against the table as she leaned in. "He creates the future, all the directions that a person's life can take. He shows a person the all the directions his life can take. It is a set of tools. That person can make anything of his life, do anything because he clearly sees all the paths set before him and can choose which one he wishes to take."

Harry studied the card.

"Dumbledore did that for you," she said and leaned in to look into his face. "He helped you understand that your path is not a narrow one. There are possibilities, other avenues; not just one. The card also tells us that you will be given a vision, a mental image of what it is you want to achieve. A plan per se."

Harry nodded.

She turned the next card over. "This card is the card of Justice. It means that the person it refers to- you- must do everything in their power to brings things back into balance. That does not mean punishing the other person whether that person is good or bad, right or wrong. It is about adjustment; balance. The end result may not turn out to be pleasant. The message is to do what is necessary no matter how hard or disagreeable it will be for you in order to regain this equilibrium."

Harry looked up to see Neville was leaning over and fidgeting with excitement.

"We are in a period of great imbalance, as you would probably agree," she said it quickly and moved on to the next card. Her hand lay over it and stopped without turning it over, while the large eyes watched him. He was aware that if he showed hesitation or disbelief that she would disappear from the room like a wisp of smoke. He folded his hands and waited.

The card was revealed. The face showed a large wheel. He understood that card. "It means a sudden change, a stroke of good luck is coming my way," he said.

Neville squealed with excitement, and then threw his hands over his mouth and watched with shining, bright eyes.

Trelawney nodded and went to the next card. "This card...is a powerful card and one that the reader often fears to see." She turned the card over slowly. It was the Tower. She was talking very softly, "The Tower is a card about war, a war between the structures of lies and the lightning flash of truth. When one gets this card, they can expect to be shaken up, to be blinded by a shocking revelation. It sometimes takes that to see a truth that one refuses to see. Or to bring down beliefs that are so well constructed. What's most important to remember is that the tearing down of this structure, however painful, makes room for something new to be built."

"What does that mean?"

"Something will happen that will surprise and shock you. Something you believe to be true, but isn't. If you hesitate to accept the new information as the truth, it will be the cause of your destruction." She said it without flinching or drama.

Harry found himself holding his breath. There was one more card laying on the table, its' soiled edges turned up as if it had been looked at over and over again. He stared at it and

reached out to place his hand over it, not touching but levitated within millimeters of it. He quickly pulled his hand back and tucked it into his robes.

Neville was almost breathless.

Trelawney reached for the card and spoke, "The Sorting Hat spoke to us several times of binding our forces together and becoming a unified whole. Many thought that the words meant that the Houses should stop feuding and that the students should come together, work together to stand against evil." Trelawney held her hand on the card but looked at Harry. "Mr. Longbottom and I have come to another conclusion." She turned the card. It was the Four of Wands."

Harry was not sure of the attributes of the card and all of its meanings. He tried out his assumptions, "It means... it means stability, a holding pattern, the roots of a foundation." He squinted in his attempts to wrestle the long forgotten lesson out of his memory.

"Normally, it would mean that; a solid foundation, like the roots of a tree. The card can also mean it is about the foundation of a house- or in Hogwarts case- Houses. The four houses; Slytherin, Gryffindor, Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff. In this case, I think it means a healing must take place to bring about stability, to bring about this equilibrium. But it was Neville who came to the conclusion that it was literal."

Neville was beaming. "All I saw was four wands on the cards."

Trelawney reached over to Harry with her long claw-like fingers and pressed it on his chest directly over the wand that he still carried. "You have it don't you? she asked.

Neville stood and did a small dance in the middle of the room, his arms flapped like wings. Harry fell back, still staring at Trelawney's huge eyes and then turned in slow motion to watch as Neville began to perform some crazy gyrations.

"What...?!" he mumbled in confusion.

"I found them, Harry!" Neville laughed. "I found them. I got them all! And now you have the last one and they are complete!" And then, as if doing muggle magic tricks, Neville began to produce items from his robe, from behind his ear, and from his sleeve. Three long objects that he laid lovingly on the table in front of Harry.

They were wands.

"Hufflepuff!" Neville exclaimed and laid a jade-handled oak wand on the table. "Ravenclaw!" Next came the willow wand with a bronze tipped handle. "Slytherin!" This one as expected was of a black wood gilded in wrap around filament wire of silver. He laid it one the table with his fingertips.

Harry stared at the three wands and then looked at Neville who was beaming and at Trelawney who had folded her hands in her lap and was watching him.

"Don't you see, Harry? The Sorting House said that we must join the Houses together to defeat evil. What it means is that we have to use the four wands together, weld them together to kill Voldemort."

Trelawney shuddered at the name of the Dark Lord. Harry looked from the wands, to Neville, to the cards laid out on the table.

"That's good, Neville," he began slowly and noticed the beginning traces of disappointment in his friend's face. "That's really good!" he finished. He didn't have the heart or the desire to explain the problem of the Horcruxes and the impossible feat set before him. Voldemort was almost invincible, almost immortal. It wasn't a matter of trying to kill him. Harry wasn't sure he could be killed even with the four wands. And he wasn't at all sure who would use the wands to do the deed.

Trelawney stood and gathered her cards and pulled her shawl around her frail shoulders.

"I have foreseen in my dreams four standing together as one. Whoever welds the wand must be true in their heart and the wand will answer it's master." She turned and walked across the room and disappeared behind the tapestry.

Harry sat for a minute and then gathered the wands together and wrapped them in the cloth that covered the table. "Neville, I don't know how to thank you." The enormity of the task had suddenly hit him. Finding the original wands of the four greatest wizards of all time must have been a daunting feat. He shook his head, "They should have put you in Hufflepuff, Neville. You've completed an impossible task and you are truly a loyal friend."

"Harry," Neville began, "I know it isn't the whole solution. Luna helped me and some others did too. I can't take credit for all of it. If it ends up saving your life then I'll be happy. You're my best friend, Harry. I miss you." The young man looked as if he were struggling not to cry.

Harry forced a smile and then put his arms around him and hugged him quickly. "I've missed you as well, Neville. But time is getting away from me and I have to hurry. Will you help me get into Dumbledore's office?"

"Oh sure, Harry," Neville straightened. "That's easy"

"Easy? I thought Professor McGonagall put a charm on it that was almost impossible to break."

Neville suddenly looked sheepish and grinned, " I think she gave up on me a long time ago, Harry. I never could remember the passwords for the Fat Lady to open the portrait or how to get into an office for detention or whatever. So McGonagall gave me a universal password that opens all the doors in Hogwarts. She made me promise to never use it in front of anyone or forget it. She said if I did she would expel me."

Harry grinned. "A universal password."

Neville nodded.

"As Ron would say; cool."


	12. Chapter 12

Ch 12 Dumbledore's Portrait

Harry stepped into Dumbledore's office alone leaving Neville to watch the stairs. They were not far from where Malfoy was being kept and he was in a hurry to complete his business and leave.

The office was dark and cool as if it had taken Dumbledore's personal warmth to heat it. Harry lit a small lamp and noticed the familiar objects still in place. His heartbeat rose as he saw the empty Phoenix perch. The other portraits on the wall woke and a rustled murmuring started up. He caught the tail-end of some of the conversations. "Potter boy...grown up.", "What's he up to?" and, "Dumbledore's favorite... ."

Harry stood in front of the desk as he had done many times in the past and stared up at the portrait. The man in the picture was sleeping and snoring. The open window behind him was dark with night and brilliant specks of stars. The moon was just rounding the edge of it and shining on the white head.

"Professor?" Harry began softly.

"Humpf," Dumbledore grumbled.

"Professor Dumbledore?' Harry said again loudly.

After a moment Dumbledore opened his blue eyes and looked down and smiled. "Hello, Harry."

Harry stood for a moment without responding. His feelings were so overwhelming and so mixed that he couldn't quite control them enough to say anything. Then, he tried to smile, although he knew it was feeble and said, "Hello, Professor."

"I take it that you've come on important business to be here at such an hour," Dumbledore arranged his robe and sat back. "How can I help you?"

Harry had been at Hogwarts for six years and at the beginning was amazed by the portraits that hung on the walls and the moving pictures in his photo album. He'd had both the opportunity and the misfortune of dealing with Mrs. Black's portrait at No. 12 Grimmauld Place and with the Fat Lady and other portraits at Hogwarts. But he'd never given them much consideration in terms of their subjects and the nature of their condition. In other words, he never expected to talk to a dead friend and have one respond in a portrait. His parents pictures didn't even do that.

"Professor...I..." he stumbled and then started again. "I'm not sure..."

"It's alright, Harry. Just say what you want to say. There are no formalities here," he replied kindly and Harry could see the blue eyes twinkling like they used to.

"There's so much I'd like to ask, but I have no time. First, just let me say that no matter what you hear; just know... just know that I'm doing what I think is best." Harry caught his breath and felt the pain in his heart for everything that he missed about the man in the picture in front of him; and, for not being able to say it aloud. "Secondly, you were killed so suddenly that we didn't have a chance to talk about the locket that I got from the bowl in the cave. Someone was there before us. I don't know who, but they left their initials behind. There was a note inside the locket and it said, _'To the Dark Lord; I know I will be dead long before you read this but I want you to know that it was I who discovered your secret. I have stolen the real Horcrux and intend to destroy it as soon as I can. I face death in the hope that when you meet your match, you will be mortal once more.' And it was signed R.A.B_." Harry had memorized the passage and repeated from memory.

Dumbledore listened and nodded with understanding, his face a study of seriousness now. "I see. It makes your task much easier then."

Harry nodded and said, "The diary, the ring and the locket are now no longer Horcruxes. That leaves the cup, the snake- if you were right about that- and one other object. The seventh soul is inside Voldemort as you said."

"You have done very well, Harry," Dumbledore smiled.

"Professor who was R.A.B.? Do you know?"

"Does it matter, Harry?" Dumbledore asked. "If the locket is no longer a Horcrux then it seems important to move on."

For some reason Harry felt a sense of frustration and even a deeper disappointment. This was the essence of Dumbledore and not the man. He wasn't sure what he could expect from the picture on the wall and had no one to ask.

"I suppose you're right, Professor. By the way I had Hermione remove the Sorting hat and Gryffindor's sword for safe-keeping."

The other portraits on the wall once again started speaking in unison..."So that was the person who came in..." and so on.

Harry raised his voice over the din, "Also, there is something that you didn't know about, the reason Voldemort went to my parents house." He wasn't sure it was wise to do it but he felt compelled to pull out the Gryffindor wand that he had carried so close to his heart since finding it. "This is what Voldemort wanted from my parents, Professor. I think they knew that he was going to do something terrible with it, and they lost their lives protecting it. I think if he had found it, he would have used it to make a Horcrux. You said he needed something from Gryffindor and something from Ravenclaw." He laid the wand on the empty desk and set the lamp beside it.

"You did very well!" Dumbledore said beaming at him.

Suddenly, Harry wanted more then platitudes. He was angry and he wanted answers. "You told Neville of the prophecy. Why? What good did that do? I've found the only other Gryffindor object but I haven't the faintest idea what he would want from Ravenclaw and I'm running out of ideas! I need your help!"

Dumbledore nodded sagely and spread his hand out palms up. "Unfortunately, Harry, I cannot assist you much further. But I have given you the keys to what you need to know and you now have the people, the friends around you that will make up the difference. You must trust yourself. You must follow your instincts." He folded his hands in his lap and waited.

The portrait of Phineas Nigellus grumbled on the wall to Harry's right. "He's going to get more people killed Dumbledore just like he did with Sirius. He's a child doing a man's job."

"Silence!" Dumbledore rose from his chair, stepped out of frame and entered the other's portrait. The two faced each other off and Harry watched in amazement.

"Tell him!" Nigellus exclaimed cowering back against the other frame. Dumbledore's face was pink with anger.

"It will only serve to confuse the issue for him. He is doing a wizard's job and more!" Dumbledore turned to him, staring down with a concerned face. "Harry, find Severus and ask for his assistance. He will help you. There is nothing that you can learn here from me- from us."

"The R.A.B. stands for Regulus Black, Sirius' brother," Phineas cried out and then leapt out of the frame of his picture and disappeared.

Harry was shocked at the information. "Sirius' brother!" he exclaimed. "But..."

Dumbledore stepped back into his own portrait and sat down, gathering his robes around him. "Is it important, Harry? Another Black gave his life to further our cause. He redeemed himself at the last moment and only now we are learning about his sacrifice. Does it help you to have the information?" His brows were furrowed together and he leaned forward. "You must concentrate, Harry. Don't let extraneous information cloud your thinking. You must find the other Horcruxes and destroy them. I believe you must do it soon. If I am correct you have set a trap and baited Voldemort. You have invited him, shall we say, back to Hogwarts."

"But Neville..." Harry protested angrily.

"It was time for him to know and it served a purpose, did it not?" Albus asked.

Harry carried the other wands in one hand and saw Dumbledore staring pointedly at the table cover in his hand .

"Snape killed you," Harry shouted, "Or at least you thought it was Snape! It was really Voldemort. He took Polyjuice potion and came to help Madam Prince escape. But you didn't know that! You kept her a secret and now he has his best ally with him. She's as dangerous as he is. What about her Professor? What do we do about her? Why didn't you kill her when you had the chance? You knew what she could do!"

The white eyebrows were raised and Harry watched him shift in his chair. "Kill her, Harry?" He hesitated and then continued. "Perhaps, I should have. But in many ways she was as much a victim as her son and, sadly, she was insane. She could not have known what Tom Riddle was to become. I told you once that many of the teachers were enthralled with him. She succumbed to his charm and his intelligence as many did before and after her. I kept her here because it was the best and only place for her, out of a hospital and safely away from Voldemort's reach."

"And now she's out and she's a brilliant witch even if she is insane," Harry's voice dropped and was cold. "She's going to help him put the remaining parts of his soul together. You talked about how he had placed the diary out into anyone's path and how he was blaze about dealing with such a precious thing. Well, now I think he knows his mistake and he's only got three pieces left. I think she's the only one that would have the slightest chance to do it since she was the one who taught him how to split his soul into seven pieces to begin with..." He stopped out of breath and watched Dumbledore.

"It makes sense that he would use her to reunite himself, if that is what he is doing," Dumbledore finished. "Or at least use her magic to protect what he has left." He nodded wisely and then said, "Remember Harry, he hid each piece; the ring in the ruins of the Gaunt house, the locket in the cave, the diary was in Malfoy's possession. Wherever the other objects remain, besides the snake, he will have hidden it in a familiar place to him. And, I hope I don't have to emphasize that he acts alone. If he went to the trouble of helping her escape, then he will use her and dispose of her when he is finished."

"Don't you think he would have retrieved all of the Horcruxes by now?" Harry exclaimed again in frustration. " Aghhhhhh, it doesn't matter!" He felt defeated and still angry and took up the Gryffindor wand, shoving it unceremoniously into his robe. "It's not going to make a difference anyway. He's almost immortal as it stands and almost impossible to kill."

"On the contrary, Harry. If he has lost three of the Horcruxes, then he has been weakened significantly. I do not think that he will try and recombine them. It would make him more mortal and in an extremely weakened mortal condition at that. No, I think he's going to protect what is left if he can; although I applaud you for considering the possibility. You are correct however, in believing that Madam Prince will add a great deal to that shield of protection if he uses her."

Harry nodded thoughtfully. "Professor. Hermione wrote to me and told me that Madam Prince was not in Slytherin House but in Ravenclaw. Do you think...can a... would he have made her a Horcrux?" Harry bit his lip and waited.

Dumbledore looked astounded. The room grew quiet and they all waited and watched as Dumbledore leaned back in his chair, he sighed almost inaudibly and gasped. "Good Heavens!"

"She wasn't insane, she was a Horcrux. That's what one looks like when a wizard uses a person to make one," Harry said quietly. "Voldemort killed her husband and made a Horcrux out of her."

Dumbledore's eyes sparkled brilliantly, "Wonderful deduction, Harry! I think... I think you are right."

Harry was not as pleased with his own brilliance. It meant that he had to kill Madam Prince, Snape's mother. Find her and destroy her. And if he were wrong, then there would be another Horcrux out there, unfound and whole. He was not happy.

"Snape seemed to think Draco was made into a Horcrux," Harry said. "He's been walking around like an empty shell since the night that you were...since the night you died. Snape said he was with Voldemort for a long time that night and came to him like that. And Draco acted possessed and almost killed Snape in front of me."

"So Severus is with you," Dumbledore sighed. "Ah, good." He looked down over his glasses in a very familiar and reassuring way. "Trust your instincts. You know all that I know, Harry. Do not deviate from your plan. It is still important to find the other object or at least to ascertain what it is," Dumbledore was now rubbing his chin. "Although, I cannot guide you from here on out since I never knew what they were."

Harry turned away and studied the room with its' long shadows. He finally turned back to look into his dead Professor's face. "Do you think it is too soon? Do you think I should have waited to set the trap?"

"I am not the one to advise you now, Harry. If you have acted prematurely you will know and it will be to the detriment of all. I cannot repeat this enough, trust yourself!"

Harry turned away without speaking and started for the door, glancing once again at the Phoenix perch. "I miss you more than you can ever know," he said, so quietly he wasn't sure that he could even be overheard. He was not talking about the bird.


	13. Chapter 13

Ch 13 Malfoy

Hermione flew down the corridor frantically searching for Harry. She met them coming through a tapestry. "Harry! You've got to hurry!" She didn't shout, but she was so panicked that he stepped up his pace. Neville was behind them and watching the corridor for teachers and for Filch.

"What is it?" he whispered.

"It's Snape, he's torturing Malfoy!" Hermione touched her wand against the bare wall and spoke three words unintelligible to Harry's ears. The wall opened, as if an eye had winked, leaving a set of stairs that wound their way sharply upwards into the dark.

Harry followed her up the shallow steps. As usual, he was amazed at the complexity of the castle. On several landings there were open doorways and he noticed, in the darkened interiors room, objects that could have only been in Dumbledore's private quarters. The light from the moon struck several objects that were replicas or similar to the objects that were in his office. Not wanting Neville to rush headlong into his back, Harry kept up the pace and followed Hermione to a landing that hung out over the void of dark space beneath them. He realized that they had to be in one of the towers and very high up.

He stopped, almost out of breath and pulled Hermione away from the door and pushed her towards Neville. "I will take care of this. You two need to make sure that no one knows we are here. And don't come in, no matter what."

"Harry..." Hermione started to argue. She was obviously not going to listen and had already started towards the door once again.

He stopped her. "Hermione, it's time to trust me. There are some things that you need to leave to me. Go with Neville." They stood nose-to-nose. Harry couldn't tell what she was thinking but he knew what he was feeling and thinking. There was a point that he had to leave his friends behind. He nudged her arm gently. "I'll send Ron out in a minute."

Harry opened the door and stepped in. The apartments were surprisingly tranquil and gave no hint of their luxurious furnishings from the other side of the door. He let his eyes adjust to the dim lighting.

It was a large room with an immensely high ceiling, a four-poster canopied bed stood in the center of the room, draped in burgundy velvet curtains. The room was equally divided into a study with ceiling high book shelves, into a area for bathing and there was also a small dining area. There were no walls or hidden recesses. A fire burned brightly in the large walk-in fireplace and served as the only light in the room.

Tied magically to the posts at the end of the bed was his nemesis, Lucius Malfoy. His head was rolling on his bare chest and Harry saw his muscles pulled taut, his arms clenched into fists and pulled to the posts; he suffered his pain in silence. Snape stood before him with his wand held casually in one hand and Harry saw Ron standing to one side. The expression on his face was one of disbelief and he was so pale his red hair stood out starkly. Harry had never seen him look both sick and terrified.

As Harry walked slowly towards the spectacle before him, the white-haired head came up. Malfoy's face was wet with sweat and his hair lay damply against his cheeks. He looked at Harry and managed an ugly snarling smile. The weeks and months in Azkaban had taken their toll on Malfoy's face. He was gaunt and paler than usual. His features were also marred by a peculiar scar that ran from his right eye to his chin. The once handsome face was now ravaged.

Harry didn't flinch at the sight. Instead, he turned to Ron and said, "Leave the room, Ron. Leave this to me and Snape." His friend looked at him blankly at first and then began to say something as his head swung between Snape, Malfoy and himself. "Go ahead," Harry urged quietly. "Hermione is waiting outside and they need your help. I'll be out soon."

"But...but Harry," his friend managed weakly. He was looking at Snape and moving slowly around him and towards Harry even as he protested.

"It's alright," Harry said again, gently. He didn't turn when Ron walked past and out the door.

Snape waited a moment and when Harry didn't speak he once again turned to Malfoy. "Tell us why you entered Hogwarts, Lucius." His voice was as smooth as skates on ice; and as cold.

Malfoy smiled and said sarcastically, "Make it worth my while, Severus." He sobered and glared at them. "You above all should know what the stakes are. I see you have joined with this boy. The Dark Lord will not think kindly towards you." He squirmed in his restraints and continued, " I am prepared to die today but I will not tell you anything and you know this even as you waste your breath asking me stupid questions."

"Have you used the veritaserum?" Harry asked, stepping closer.

Snape shook his head and withdrew a vial from his robe while still holding his wand on the man. Harry took it from his hand stepped forward and reached behind Malfoy's head, grasping the hair and yanking his head back and down so hard that Malfoy went to his knees. He looked into the man's face and smiled. "I'm tired of being the 'boy' to you Malfoy. The tables are turned and we need some answers." He waited until he heard Snape say the incantation and Malfoy's nose was pinched off so that in a minute he opened his mouth involuntarily. That was the moment Harry emptied the contents of the vial into his mouth.

"Will it work on him?" Harry asked out of the side of his mouth.

Snape nodded and murmured, "It will have the desired effect, I think. Even Lucius cannot fight the full effects of the potion."

Harry had seen how fast the potion acted when Dumbledore had given it to the false Mad-Eye Moody and he waited, standing in front of Malfoy, until he saw the eyes glaze over slightly. "Answer the question. Why did you come to Hogwarts?"

"I am here on her orders."

"Who? Madam Prince?" Harry asked.

Malfoy snorted, "Prince?"

Severus spoke, "Elvira Snape."

Malfoy's head rolled forward in a nod. "Yes. I am here at her request." The veins stood out on his pale face and it was clear he was fighting the potion.

"What did you come for?" Harry asked. He was pointing his own wand and his arm was shaking from restraining himself.

Malfoy rolled his head back and forth and hissed as if trying to keep the information from them.

"Crucio!" Harry shouted. The effect was instantaneous, but short-lived. He had not yet acquired the deep desire to make it excruciating as Bellatrix Lestrange had pointed out to him at the Ministry of Magic. Lucius arched back in the restraints and blood ran from the corner of his mouth. He had obviously bitten his tongue to keep from screaming.

Snape stepped forward. He was giving Harry a peculiar look as if to say, 'what's got into you?'. He turned, pulling his sleeves up on his robe and spoke, "Perhaps it would be better if I handle the questioning. Force is not necessary with veritaserum. Even Lucius Malfoy must succumb to its' effects."

Harry frowned, but nodded. His chest was heaving with the force of his emotions. He felt so much hate at that moment that he felt he could easily tear the man apart with his bare hands. He desperately wanted Malfoy dead and he wanted to do it himself in the most agonizing way possible.

Lucius was on his knees and Snape touched his head with the tip of his wand. The man looked up with a sneering glare etched on his features.

"You were caught near the Potions classroom. What were you looking for?" Snape asked.

"An old potion's book," came the answer.

Harry swallowed hard and tried not to let his feelings of surprise show on his face.

"A potion's book?" Snape mumbled and stole a glance at him.

"It is a student's book," Malfoy said and continued, "It belonged to her and then to you. She said it was in a cupboard under other books."

"What does she want it for?" Harry gasped.

Malfoy shook his mane of white hair and kept silent. It was clear that he either didn't know or was not saying.

"What else do you want?" Snape asked.

"My son," Malfoy replied.

Snape cocked his head and Harry wondered if the potion had been strong enough. He didn't believe for a moment that Malfoy cared about Draco. It appeared to him that Snape wasn't believing it as well.

"Why do you want Draco?" Snape asked finally.

"Our Master needs him."

"Go on," Snape prodded.

Harry felt the sweat dripping down his temple and between his shoulder blades. He felt the demon of anger consuming him. _This is going too slow_, he shrieked in his own head. He gritted his teeth and raised his wand.

Snape turned to him for a second time frowning curiously. His attention was again drawn to Lucius when he began to speak. "The Master says he is a vessel that holds a very important thing. I am proud to let my son serve Him."

"Yes." Snape strolled to his side and looked down at him. "I imagine you are. Do you understand Lucius that our Master is almost immortal. He will rule the wizarding world. Even you, who thinks he is a favorite, will suffer- have suffered- with his kind of rule. He will never be satisfied Lucius. He will have a growing hunger to have it all, to command and rule it all. There are very few true bloods left. Do you think that life will be worthwhile when all the rest of us are gone?"

Lucius rolled his head back and stared up at Snape. He smiled drunkenly, the veritaserum still holding strong in his blood and said, "I'd almost forgotten you were half-blood Severus. What a shame. However, I think that he will gladly put an end to you; traitor!"

"He killed your wife Lucius and she was full blood." Snape hissed leaned over solicitously. Harry watched with a growing fury. "He will easily kill you when the time comes. What do you imagine the world will be like? It will be a wasteland. Do you wish to rule over a wasteland?"

"Why are you treating him like this," Harry hissed. "He's a murdering, filthy Deatheater!" He felt his control slipping. "It's time to kill him. He can't tell us anything of importance. I'll do it! Step away!"

Snape put out a hand to ward him away and again he was frowning. "He may yet prove useful. Are you in such a hurry to kill, Potter? I am surprised." Snape reached over and pulled the man up. "He is a valuable asset that we will not dispose of quickly." He turned to the man before him and asked, "Where is the master now? Where is my mother?"

"At Azkaban," Malfoy grimaced and struggled to remain steady on his feet. The potion was beginning to wear off and he snarled at him, "He's untouchable."

"What does he plan to do?" Snape asked studying Malfoy's eyes. They were clearing and both he and Harry knew that the man had too much control to answer without it.

"Sorry, old friend," Lucius seethed. "You'll just have to wait and find out."

"Don't worry old friend," Snape said sarcastically. "He has a weakness. He is not invincible. Not yet. We both know that you can't go back to him empty-handed, we will not let you leave with Draco or the book and he will not rescue you. You might as well relax and enjoy your stay."

"It will be a short one, I assure you," Malfoy said with his usual arrogant voice.

"Mr. Potter could I have a word?" Snape asked still looking at Lucius.

They walked to the landing and Harry stood looking down into the circle of blackness at his feet.

"In a bit of a hurry to create blood and mayhem aren't we, Mr. Potter?" Snape said.

"You can't tell me you weren't torturing him before I came in. Hermione came after me to tell me," Harry said coldly. He was still angry but felt the fire that had consumed him in the face of Lucius Malfoy now burning out.

"I guess I am a little surprised that's all. However, he will do us no good if he is dead or cannot speak intelligently. What do you propose to do with him?"

"Keep him for awhile. I want to know why your mother wanted that book and why Voldemort wants Malfoy. We both know Draco is enchanted or possessed. I don't think he's a Horcrux. Voldemort made them over sixteen years ago. If anything, your mother would be one. Voldemort has to commit a particularly heinous murder in order to make one. I think he killed your father in order to do it." Harry turned to Snape in the dim light and saw the eyes narrow. "If you had told me the truth from the beginning it would have saved us time. He rescued your mother because he was drawing his Horcruxes to him for safe keeping. She wasn't insane; she lives with a dual soul inside her."

Snape leaned against the railing of the landing and stared at him. Harry could see the realization dawn in his face.

"She was from Ravenclaw house," Harry continued quietly. "Dumbledore said that Voldemort wanted some object from each House, as a symbolic gesture of some kind. He chose the Hufflepuff cup, which was kept by a woman. He stole it when he was very young and murdered her. He had Slytherin's family ring, which Dumbledore destroyed and I destroyed his diary. Those were personal items that he'd run across as he went through his family and murdered them. He murdered his uncle and grandfather, his own father and his family when he was as old as I am now."

Snape was staring at him. "Who told you this?"

"Dumbledore showed me the memories in the Pensieve. He's been searching for the Horcruxes since I was born ."

"You said there were seven," Snape said.

Harry nodded. "Dumbledore thought his snake, Nagini, was one. Then, there was a locket. The night of his death we went to fetch it. I've got it here." Harry had carried the locket with him since leaving the shores of that dreadful island in the middle of the cave. He had never removed the note that was left behind. He handed it to Snape and swallowed hard. He was revealing everything and yet, did not trust Snape completely. He thought about it. _It's either the end of me and he will betray me or he will help me_, he decided. "He will have one residing inside himself, there will be the cup, the snake and your mother. That will be all of them."

"You are sure of this?" Snape asked opening the parchment he had extracted from the locket. His eyebrow went up as he read the note.

Harry shrugged. "As sure as I can be. Dumbledore may have known more but he died. I went to his portrait before I came up here. He cannot tell me anymore but suggested I come to you." Harry said no more and allowed the silence to express his skepticism.

Snape stepped to the edge of the railing and peered down. He was also silent, thinking about what he had just heard. He turned to Harry. "He hurt his hand destroying the ring."

Harry nodded. "I think so. I asked him about it several times but he said it was a story that need to be told in full. He would never elaborate."

"I see."

"Dumbledore said that once all of them were destroyed, Voldemort would be mortal and even weakened. It would be a chance to kill him." Harry accepted the locket back when Snape handed it to him. "I'm thinking that maybe we can get your mother to fetch the potion's book herself. But I need to know what is in it that she wants. I've read it over and over and I didn't see anything."

Snape cracked a small smile. "There is much there that is not visible, Potter. I am surprised that your friend Miss Granger did not discover all of its' secrets when you were busy showing off for Professor Slughorn."

Harry cocked his eyebrow and looked at him in surprise. Snape was suddenly acting like his professor again.

"Alright. Very well," Snape murmured and also shrugged, gesturing open-palmed as if to say that he was giving up. "I don't know what is there. I haven't looked in the book for years. If you have it then I need to see it. You switched books on me when you used the spell on Draco."

Harry ignored the comment. "Do you have a sense of what she wants it for?" he asked because he was reluctant to turn the book over.

"Some spell, obviously." Snape smirked and then grew grave. "Did Dumbledore agree with your assessment that the Dark Lord is reuniting his souls?"

Harry shook his head. "No. He's probably right too. He thought that he was gathering the Horcruxes together to protect them."

"It makes sense that he would do that to protect what is left. It will be impossible to penetrate Azkaban," Snape said as if speaking to himself.

"That's why I think we have to bring them to us," Harry answered. He looked directly into the face of the man he had loathed for so many years. "I've given you the information that I have and I'm asking for your help. But I think it only fair that you answer some questions for me."

"What would they be, Mr. Potter?" Snape didn't appear willing to give ground.

"Did you know your mother was alive?" Harry asked.

"No. Not until the night Dumbledore was killed."

"Did you kill your father or was I right and Voldemort murdered him?"

"I think that you have guessed correctly." Snape said with a voice void of emotion. "I thought my mother killed him. It would not surprise me if the Dark Lord was the murderer."

"Is there any chance that she would come to you if you found a way to send her a message?"

Snape looked at him with his coal black eyes and took a deep breath. "If she is a Horcrux, then her mind is not her own. It belongs to him. She will do what he wills. I doubt there is any sentimentality left in her."

Harry nodded sympathetically. He understood. "I have no idea how to bring her to us. I left a trail to Hogwarts so that he would know I was here."

Snape nodded knowingly.

Harry said. "There are a lot of people in the way and I don't want them hurt. He will bring the snake with him, I know that and possibly your mother."

"And how would you know that?" The eyebrow was once again raised.

" I sense what he wants," Harry answered. " I can read his mind and I think it's time I checked in to see what he is up to."

Snape reared back from the railing. "That would be reckless, Potter. I admire your courage for having faced him once and survived. However, you take a monumental chance when you are unprepared."

"Do you have another suggestion? If you do I'm all out of answers and we need to act."

"Do you intend to be a hero?" Snape asked forcing the words between clenched teeth. "If you do, it will be a dead one. You have no idea what it will be like to enter his mind."

"If we're going to be partners Snape you've got to learn to play better with others." Harry said it bitterly and pushed himself away and started down the stairs. "I'm going for the book. Tidy up here and we'll meet down in the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom. I think that will be appropriate."

Harry turned and started down the stairs and without stopping said, "When I enter his mind you're going to be right along beside me since you have a special talent for Legilimency."

He felt the silence at his back as he proceeded down the stairs.

He slipped down the corridor without being seen until he stood in the hallway where the Room of Requirement would appear. _I need the book, I need the book. _He paced back and forth before the empty wall until the door appeared. Glancing both ways, he opened the door, lit his wand and made his way through the stacks of objects.

He was leaving the room and was headed for the classroom. It was late at night and the school was silent. Even Peeves was floating over the top of a cabinet apparently asleep. Harry walked on cat-like feet and moved through the castle. He knew that there were sentries posted by the D.A.. He had not come across anyone yet until he saw a tapestry move and Ron stepped out.

"Harry?"

"Ron."

"Have you seen Hermione and Neville? Did they go back up to Dumbledore's rooms?"

Harry could his friend's face in the pale moonlight shining through the mullion windows. Ron looked frightened. All he could think of when he saw him was; _You're having a bad night my friend. _"No, I haven't seen them."

Ron nodded and bit at his lip as usual. "They were in the common rooms for awhile. We talked a little and then Hermione and Neville went off. They were talking about something when I showed up. I heard something about the war starting. Do you know what that's about Harry? Is Voldemort attacking?"

They stood staring at one another and then Harry felt his heart sink. "Ron, go find Dean and some of the others- Luna- and have them search the castle. See if you can find them. If they are missing then go tell McGonagal and tell her to wake everyone up and get the younger students to safety. We may be under attack."

Ron nodded vigorously and walked alongside until they reached the end of the hall.

"Ron, take them down below, through the trapdoor on the third floor. Remember?" Harry was now almost running.

"How could I forget!"

"Where's Draco?"

"He's asleep in your old bed."

"Bring him to the Defense Against the Dark Arts Room as soon as possible," Harry saw Peeves swooping down the hall towards them. Their loud voices had woke him.

They parted and Harry ran for the classroom followed by a shrieking Peeves.

"It's a POTTY, a POTTY come back to Hogwarts and sneaking through the halls," Peeves chortled and took a dive around in front of Harry.

Harry stopped and said quietly, "If you don't stop Peeves, it very well could mean the end of me and the end of Hogwarts and everything that ever counted. Do you want to be known as the one who gave it all away to Voldemort?"

The Poltergeist flipped over slowly in midair, snuffed loudly with fake tears and zoomed off down the hall without another word.

_Whatever we are going to do, we need to do it quickly_. He felt the rush of adrenaline and his heart pounding wildly at the thought that Hermione and Neville might be in danger. _Please, please, please let them be safe_.


	14. Chapter 14

Ch 14 Voldemort

Shapes flitted from shadow to shadow in the small village. There were a number of them. Even the warmth of the lights glowing from each cozy window did not dispel the gloom and fear that came before the figures that ran through the night. Werewolves! Hundreds of them converging on the little hamlets and towns that nestled in the once charming countryside.

The Weasley house was tucked into the meadow and surrounded by tall oaks that stood sentinel along the lane leading to the house. There were no night noises. Not a barn owl or a pig or a fox moved in the stillness of the night. The shapes slipped through the moon shadows, once in awhile looking up at the silver orb and giving voice to the thrill of the hunt and the chase and then moving on.

Molly Weasley sat in her armchair next to the warm fire and refused to study her clock. Her family had grown up and they were scattered in many places. The hands of the clock had never moved away from the ominous words: In Peril. She listened to the click of the knitting needles and glanced at them once in awhile. It was all she could do to sit and not pace the room. Her thoughts as usual were on her family and hardly ever on herself. She felt a knot of anxiety gathering force in her throat and she finally heaved herself to her feet and once again went to the window to look out. It did no good to look because there was nothing there to see and yet she had to look. She saw the shadows moving where there should have been stillness and wondered at the silence of the night. The first snows of winter were laying unmarked on the ground.

Not very far from her door she heard the first howl and stepped back, at first in shock, and then in terror. She had never been very good at defensive spells and she gripped the wand against her breast and stepped to the fireplace. Still watching the door she slipped a handful of floo powder from the cup and held it fast in her hand. Suddenly, the door buckled inward with the power and weight of a great beast. With a little shriek of terror she threw the powder into the fire and stepped in.

George and Fred Weasley were closing up shop early and had just turned out the lights and were walking along the street in Diagon Alley. Business had been poor as usual; at least the walk-in trade. Their only hope, they knew was to wait out the current storm, if that were possible and hope things picked up. They were glad that the Ministry had taken to purchasing even more of their new items and large lots of their Shield charms supplies. They were discussing it when out of a darkened alley groups of figures descended on them and dead, pale hands groped in the dark and clung to them. The Inferi were upon them.

The green mark of the most evil wizard in the world began to light up the sky across the country until it looked like the Chinese New Year. Remus Lupin stepped out of No 12 Grimmauld Place having taken his potion for the evening. He looked up and saw the green residue drifting like clouds across the sky and stepped back to lean against the door in horror. _My God it's happening again! _He retreated to the interior of the house knowing that his business would have to be set aside. People would be arriving soon and he needed to prepare. It had started. The war that everyone was afraid of was now beginning.

Rufus Scrimgeour entered his office and threw his cloak to the floor without paying any attention to where it landed. He'd spent the last hour with the muggle minister and was infuriated.

__

The stupid git! were his exact thoughts. _Unexpected fires, missing pedestrians, buses overturned, the underground stranded and in darkness. Strange storms! What does he want me to do about it?_ He sat at his immense desk and set a dictating quill to parchment. A head poked in and he looked up in time to see it and call out. "Weasley, get in here!"

Percy Weasley stepped in, wringing his hands.

"Go find your father and get him up here," Scrimgeour growled.

"My...my father?" Percy whimpered.

"You heard me! If there is anyone who knows where Potter is, it will be him. Now fetch him!" The man waved his hand at him and began yanking drawers open. Ever one for action he was moving around the room like a whirlwind. He hardly looked up as figure after figure began to step from the fireplace, all talking at once. "Rufus, what are we going to do?" one woman asked in panic. "The mark is being seen everywhere!"

Another portly gentlemen in magnificent green robes that looked like dragonfly wings, and spectacles that sat at the tip of his nose, marched up to the desk and tucked a finger into his waistband, studying Scrimgeour over the glasses. He scrunched his nose and said easily, "I hope that you have a plan of action for this Rufus?"

The yellowish eyes peered up over their own set of spectacles. "We have been anticipating this now for sometime, Oliver. You and Lilith shouldn't have come. You'll hear from me when the time is right!" The mane of dirty brown hair dipped down once again. "Now where is it? Where have I put it! Ah ha!" He stood upright clutching a thick folder against his chest.

"What do you plan to do?" another man asked. He had emerged form the fire and had waddled up beside the much taller man in green robes.

Scrimgoer frowned at them and turned to walk around his desk. "All of you go to your designated shelters. The Dark Lord is not interested in harming you at the moment. Be assured you are all safe. He is more interested in the half bloods and muggle-born and he will attack them first. As far as we can tell..."

"Who?" the woman asked, "who can tell? Do you have Aurors spying on him Rufus?"

"Yes...well no. Not directly on Him," Scrimgoer snarled. "I have people who are monitoring the situation. Now, I must leave."

"Where?" The short, round man asked, "Where are you going?"

Scrimgoer stopped dead in his tracks and turned to her. His hair was now sticking out around his face, and he, more than ever, resembled a lion as he glared back at them. "The attacks seem to be widespread, but aren't really. The main force is moving northward on flying carpets and thestrals. He's got a few dragons, but the fires are being handled. Trust me, we can deal with the Inferi and the werewolves if everyone will just keep their heads. The stories about the vampires are just not true and any decent wizard or witch should be able to deal with the trolls and assorted wildlife. It's the Death eaters that we must concern ourselves with and that is what I am about!" he swung around and headed for the door. "That is if I can be on my way!"

Percy stepped in just as Scrimgeour reached the door.

"Well, where is he?!" Scrimgeour shouted. He yanked the door open to stare down the empty hallway.

"I...I can't find him," Percy mewled.

"Get yourself out there and look until you do! I want to see Mad-Eye Moody at once!" The Minister sprang past him and hurled himself down the hall leaving Percy to face a growing body of men and women crowding into the office.

"Where am I to send him, Minister?" The words were barely out of Percy's mouth, but remained unheard, as they echoed on the empty hall. He turned slowly and gazed at the room full of very important people and asked, "Would anyone like some tea?"

The usual crowd of goblins and warlocks and visitors to Hogsmeade were at The Three Broomsticks hanging around a roaring fire in the back room when a young boy came running in and slid hallway across the floor. He was yanking a muffler from around his chin so that he could speak. Snowflakes were still frozen on his cap and the shoulders of his coat. The voice stopped and there was one last clink of a glass being set down on the bar. The boy's voice quivered as he spoke, "Villages are being attacked all over Britain! The Ministry has sounded the alarm!"

There was silence for a second, and then, pandemonium. Madam Rosmerta watched the last of her customers yanking on their cloaks as they flew out the door. She wiped the counter down with a moist rag and then went from light to light. "Nox... nox... nox," she repeated until there was one light left. It had been the light she had lit for Albus Dumbledore the night he was killed. She stared at it for a long time before she turned her back on it and climbed the stairs to her rooms above the bar. She carefully dressed in warm clothes and pulled on her own cloak. With one last glance at her small but comfortable rooms, she slipped down the back stairs and headed for Hogwarts, clutching her wand in her hand. She was bound and determined to do what she could to protect the school or die trying. The road was now dusted in a layer of new-fallen snow when an inhumanly large figure stepped out in front of her.

The scream was faint and softened by the falling snow.

"It's a'right Grawppy m'boy. It's jus' Rosmerta," a deep gruff voice called out to the mountain that stood in the way of the woman. "He won' hurt ya." Hagrid stepped out of the dark. At first he appeared to be a moving fir tree, covered in snow. He shook himself and stepped closer to her.

"They're coming, Hagrid," Rosmerta gasped both out of fear of the giant and fear of what was behind her. "The ministry has sounded the alarm."

"Then we best be getting to the school," Hagrid said kindly. He knew what she had suffered after word had gotten out that she had played a part in Dumbledore's death. Most believed she had been Imperioused, but there were still many who wanted to punish her and would have her sent to Azkaban if it were still a prison. She nodded and hurried forward, walking between the legs of the giant. Gawp bent forward and watched her through the gap.

"Get'on wit' ya," Hagrid growled at his half-brother and then followed her. "Don' let anyone else pass less'n ya know who they are."

The instructions were received and the giant was thinking them over even as the first witch apparated in front of him.

Harry stood in the classroom and waited. It was dark and cloistered so that no noise from the halls penetrated. He had a moment to reflect on what he had experienced and on what he was about to do. He had no idea of what was taking place outside the castle walls. All he could feel was a profound alone-ness. Even the comfort of the old classroom was not enough. He watched a mouse running along the wall; stopping sniffing, searching and then moving on. It seemed in a hurry.

__

Going about your business, Harry thought. _Doing what you need to do and then suddenly there's a great big stinking cat and you're life is turned upside down. _ He spoke aloud, "Suddenly you're prey and he's the predator and you don't deserve what is about to happen; don't even quite know how it's all come about. Through no fault of your own you have to face him. He's bigger and stronger and more powerful and you're so little in comparison. In your heart, you would turn and run the other direction and get away if you could because no matter how brave you are, you know that you cannot win. This time there is no escape and no one to give their life for you."

"Harry?" Ron rushed in, breathless and he spoke. "We can't find them- Neville and Hermione! The Ministry has just sounded the alarm and McGonagall has teachers waking everyone up."

Harry watched him calmly and then nodded. "Are they close, do you know?"

Ron shook his head. "Don't know. She told me Lupin was on his way. So they must be coming to Hogwarts. There are attacks all over, but scattered."

"So we have time," Harry said soothingly. "I must do this. Did you bring Draco?"

"Luna's bringing him down. We're trying to stay out of the way of the teachers."

"You've done well, Ron." Harry strolled to the head of the classroom. "As soon as Luna brings Draco, then the two of you need to go to McGonagall. She'll need the older students to help protect the school."

"What about Hermione, Harry!" Ron groaned, almost beside himself with anxiety.

"It will be all right," Harry said quietly. "She can take care of herself."

Ron looked at him with such a stunned expression that Harry felt his resolve to stand strong melting away. "What is it that you want me to do, Ron? I have a job to complete right now. I can't help you! There are a lot of people that need to be protected and I can't do it by myself. I need you to take charge."

Harry watched his friend. He knew there was a lot going on and he felt helpless. He knew what he must do and it couldn't be running around looking for people. "We have time, Ron. They aren't at the castle walls yet. Go and do a thorough search. Have someone warn, Hagrid. The House elves. Go down to the kitchens and find Dobby. They know their way around better than anyone. Have them help search."

Ron nodded and turned just as Luna was guiding Draco through the door.

"RON!" Harry reached out a hand to stop him. " You can do this. You don't need me or Hermione or anyone else. And...for me. Make sure Ginny is out of harm's way."

His friend nodded once and left. Harry stood looking at Draco who had such a vacant look in his face that it was hard not to think of him as a ghost. "What are you staring at?" he snarled at the blank face, feeling angry and helpless.

The door creaked slowly open and Snape stepped in.

They stood in the dark with only the faint glimmer of reflected light from the tall mullioned windows illuminating the room. Snape waved a hand and candles flamed up around them.

"Whatever you propose to do , we should get on with it. I hear the commotion in the hallways. Which means that the alarm has been sounded."

"Yes, it has," Harry answered and handed the potions book to him. He was still standing by Draco as Snape accepted the book and took a seat at the Professor's desk. Harry continued. "I think that Draco is a conduit to Him. He's already possessed him once as we both know." He was thinking of the moment in the Riddle Mansion when Draco's voice had changed and he had attacked Snape. "I want to try and use Legilimency on Draco and see if that will create a pathway."

Snape nodded and held up one hand as if to ask for silence. He was flipping through the pages of the books, turning it sideways at times and sometimes up-side-down. Harry knew the writing covered all the pages. Every minute or two Snape would touch the book with his wand and start to read from front to back. The book even talked to him for a few minutes, reciting potion ingredients in a singsong voice. "Silencio." He closed the covers, looked up and finally said, "There are many potions and incantations that are in the book that could be useful. I cannot determine which one it is."

Harry nodded. He was perched on the desk at the front of the room pondering the darkness outside the windows. He finally said, "I thought that would be the case. It's time we try to use Draco."

"What do you hope to learn?" Snape asked, standing up and leaving the book on the desk.

"Where Voldemort is at. What his plans are. If nothing more, then why he wants Draco and the book," Harry answered. He waited for a moment and then went on, "I need your help. I am not strong enough to do Legilimency on my own."

Snape walked over to them and stood in contemplation. "If we do this, he will know where we are. He will come here for both of us. Hogwarts...the students will be in danger."

"Ron is taking care of it," Harry said.

Snape's eyebrow went up almost to his hairline. "Weasley?"

Harry frowned at him. "Yes."

They glared at one another and Snape sniffed and said, "Are you prepared to meet him tonight? He will come and nothing, not the incantations and spells placed on the walls or a dozen ministry wizards will stop him."

Harry nodded. He didn't feel sure of anything at all. _ I'm seventeen years old. No, Snape. I'm not sure! I don't want to see him, I never want to see him again! I'm not ready to die! _He felt like the mouse that had scurried away out of danger's way for the moment. He only knew that the time had come and was trusting his instincts. "Yes. We can't wait any longer. It's begun. The longer we wait the more he will kill."

"Stand beside me," Snape said and drew his wand. He gestured for Harry to do the same.

"What can I expect?" Harry asked

.

Snape looked over and then at Draco. "We will be connected. I will see and hear what you see and hear. It will be the same with you. If he is truly possessed, we will enter the mind of ...Voldemort."

Harry looked at him sharply. It was the first time he had spoken the name. He turned away almost as quickly. "I'm ready."

It was not hard to look into the eyes of the blankly staring Draco Malfoy. The boy was not blinking.

"Legilimency," Snape breathed.

Harry felt the searing agony almost immediately. He was glad he had not eaten earlier because his stomach rolled and he leaned forward as spittle dripped from his mouth. He wanted to tear at his forehead and carve the scar away with a sharp instrument. It was all he could do to keep his sanity. A hand reached over and took his arm and settled him. It was Snape's touch. Harry peered at him through weeping, stinging eyes and saw that the pain was reciprocated.

They both stared at Draco and Harry felt his body sailing along on a gust of dark fetid wind. There was nothing to anchor him in the surroundings except gray shadows looming in and out of his line of vision. Putrid smells assailed his nostrils and he felt cold. The cold was penetrating, like no cold he had ever experienced. The only touch of warmth that he could feel was the hand on his arm. Harry felt suffocated. He could readily believe that he was entombed in some cold, marble mausoleum; entrapped for eternity in a colorless world.

The wind slowed and they seemed to appear in a room. Harry recognized the room and some of the occupants. H also realized he was looking out from the eyes of the most evil, darkest wizard of wizard kind. Standing before him were two women, one Harry knew as Bellatrix Lestrange. A voice inside his head echoed the word; _mother! _At their feet was a large snake coiled in an attitude of suspense, as if listening with great intensity. Harry heard the parseltongue.

"Go before us Nagini," the voice said. "Press the roots of the tree where Wormtail has shown you. We will follow."

"Yesssssss, massssster," The snake hissed.

Harry knew that Snape also understood what was being said. The hand that touched his arm squeezed tightly.

"What do you ask of me Master?" Bellatrix knelt before the man and Harry looked down on her with the eyes of the devil. He knew that Voldemort was not yet aware of their presence. It would not be long. The cold was piercing him to the core and he felt himself slowly changing. Harry had heard of changelings, wizards who transformed into animals and creatures. He wondered at the time if they remained human inside or became the animals their bodies had transformed into. Now he knew. If he and Snape stayed long, he would begin to have the emotions and feelings of the dark wizard, possibly even the memories. He might even lose himself.

The hand squeezed harder as the thought drifted through his mind.

Harry felt his mouth move, "You will follow with Crabbe and Amycus. Make sure we have no interference with the staff or students. Kill anyone who gets in the way. The main force will be attacking the gates. Be very clear that I want the boy. He must be alive and unharmed. Kill Snape if he is nearby."

"Oh thank you master, thank you," Bellatrix grinned. Her blackened teeth added to her overall appearance of insanity and evil. The woman at her side did not flinch when she heard the name.

Harry felt an almost unbearable pain beginning to move from his feet upwards towards his head. He desperately wanted to look down at his feet to see what the problem was and the hand on his arm pressed harder as he examined the thought. It felt like scales growing on his skin. Something hard was growing in circles, burning and yet cold. He also felt like his very blood was turning cold and only the warmth of the fire that blazed in the old fireplace seemed to slow the process. He thought he was turning to stone. As he listened, he felt his breath inhaled through narrow slots in his face and the tongue in his mouth grew slim and slipped between his tongue, tasting the air.

"Was it Draco that he wanted or did Voldemort want him?" Harry asked and the question was barely formed before he saw the deformed hands that gripped the handles on the chair lift up towards his face and place themselves on each side. The hands were no longer five fingered but welded together into a mitt. The hands were covered in green iridescent reptile scale.

__

What? Voldemort questioned silently and yet both Snape and Harry heard the unvoiced question.

"Master," the woman before him looked up. Her eyes staring at him curiously. Harry stared at her with both his mind, Snape's and their shared companion, Voldemort. She was not the woman that had been described to him as old. She was beautiful. It was obvious to Harry that she been rejuvenated and she looked as young as a woman in her thirties. The dark eyes and dark hair were unmistakably those of Snape's mother.

She rose and stepped forward, leaning in and staring into the windows of her master's eyes. "You share your mind, Master."

"Aghhhhh!" Voldemort slithered to the floor, rearing the elongated upper portion of his body to full body height; his legs no longer functioned because they too were melded together.

Harry thought that he was going to go insane. The fury and rage and murderous thoughts of the wizard engulfed him. His fear was so great that he forgot to breath. He saw red flames, horrific beasts and insane thoughts flooded his mind. His senses were overwhelmed with the putridness of decaying flesh.

And yet, he suddenly desired the taste of blood, desired the feeling of power he had gotten from using the Cruciatus curse on Malfoy. He felt himself wanting to laugh, wanting to sink his teeth into a human and tear away the flesh to expose the bone.

And then there was darkness. A soft dark womb of darkness and he fell back into it with relief.

_I'm dying. Thank god, I'm dying and the pain is over. _He smiled to himself and let the darkness over take him.


	15. Chapter 15

Ch 15 Ginny's Revenge

Harry opened his eyes and looked directly into the dark pools that were Snape's eyes.

He jerked to sitting position and laid a hand on his cheek feeling a stinging sensation receding. "You slapped me!"

Snape nodded.

Harry started with sudden realization. "He's in the Shrieking Shack!"

Snape nodded again. This time he looked defeated. "He'll be here soon," he said calmly.

"He knows that we were in his mind," Harry gasped. He got to his feet with Snape's assistance. He knew that the man had probably saved his life by holding on to him. He glanced at him and moved away.

Snape stood in one spot without speaking. His arms were folded over his chest and he waited.

Harry wandered around the classroom and touched various objects as he walked. He was thinking furiously about what they could do. He was responsible for getting them into a dead-end situation and he could see no way out except to run and hide. Even that would not get them far and he had no desire to run. What he had just experienced- no, what they both had experienced-was horrible, beyond-belief-horrible. Harry could still feel the residue of the wizards' mind sticking to his like clotted cream. Voldemort was no longer human. What was inside was a cold, desolate, empty hatred and hunger; and no one was safe.

He turned and the hand that held his wand lay limply at his side. He was about to speak when the door to the room banged open and they both turned to look.

To Harry's surprise and wonder, Hermione and Neville struggled through the door balancing a large cabinet by their wands.

"Hermione! Neville!"

"Hello, Harry," Hermione was out of breath. "We've got very little time and lots to tell you. We met Ron on the stairs. There's a terrible fight going on outside. Over there, Neville." She nodded in the direction she wished to go. The two moved the object to the middle of the room. "Madam Maxine and some of the Beauxbatons are here with their carriage. Others are joining them. Victor Krum is on the way and many of his people. Remus has most of the Order surrounding the grounds and Hagrid has Grawp at the gates. We saw Oliver Wood and others downstairs organizing the younger students and taking them to safety. Ron is at the front doors with most of the D.A. He's got people at all the entrances."

"Hermione, you and Neville have to get out of here!" Harry rushed forward interrupting her recitation. "Voldemort is at the Shrieking Shack. They are coming through the tunnel even as we speak. You and Neville need to leave!"

Hermione stopped and took a breath before planting her fist on her waist and confronting both he and Snape. "I'm not leaving and neither is Neville. We've got a plan!"

"Plan..." Harry said weakly and looked at Snape. He looked back with an almost similar expression.

"What is your plan, Miss Granger? Tell us quickly," Snape spoke curtly, but not unkindly.

"Well, I put it all together when Neville told me about the wands," she said it quickly.

"Wands?" Snape asked.

"Harry, show him the wands," Hermione ordered. "You've still got them with you I hope."

Harry had forgotten that his inside pocket in his robe hung heavy with the three wands Neville had given him. "Hermione. It's not the whole solution. Voldemort wants Draco and he wants the Potion's book and we don't know why yet."

"I know why, Harry," she snarled at him and walked over to reach in his robes and begin to rummage through the pockets. He stood submissively with his arms out staring down at her. Then pushed her away. "Stop! All right!" He pulled the wrapped bundle out and handed it to her.

She unwrapped them and showed them to Snape and then handed him the Slytherin wand and Neville the Hufflepuff wand and took the Ravenclaw wand for herself. "Harry, you must use the Gryffindor wand."

Snape's head came up. "Gryffindor wand?" he said in shocked surprise. He was holding the black wand of Slytherin in his own hand as if it were a fabulous treasure.

"I found it at my parent's home..." Harry began and was interrupted by Hermione.

"I read the potion's book when I found it. Remember, Harry I put the sword and the Sorting Hat in the same place and then I saw that stupid book. So I read it. There were lots of spells that I didn't understand and some that were obviously very dark magic..."

"Miss Granger, we must hurry," Snape said through clenched teeth. He'd found the energy to set aside his astonishment and regain his composure.

"...and I found one," she continued and walked over to the desk, picked up the book and flipped through the pages. She handed the open book to Snape. "Now your mother," she nodded to Snape, "was a very clever witch. Actually, brilliant! She not only helped Voldemort perform the necessary magic to make the Horcruxes she knew other potent spells, too. The incantation you have in front of you is...?" She arched her eyebrow at Snape.

"To take over the body of another human being," Snape said quietly studying the book.

"Exactly. Not just possess but slip in and occupy another human being. He tried to do that to Professor Quirrell but did not have the energy to do it completely, not in such a reduced state. But now, that he has your mother, and he still has Horcruxes left, he will not want to stay in his body but take over another one- a healthier one." She looked at Draco who remained transfixed in one spot. They all turned in unison to follow her gaze.

Harry was excited now and thinking about what she was telling them. "Yes, he did something to him!"

"Yes, obviously," Hermione said and then smiled apologetically. "He prepared him, I guess you could say."

"Prepared him?" Harry asked.

She nodded. "I think he possessed him for short periods of time to test him out. See if he wanted his body. The spell in the book says that he cannot be around the body of the one he wishes to possess for long periods of time. But the body can be used as a window of sorts. He could watch you and follow you. He was able to follow you here because I brought Draco along with me to Hogwarts." She looked at him apologetically. "Sorry Harry. Anyway, Voldemort was happy to let you take him with you, Professor. He never trusted anyone and he learned that you visited Mrs. Malfoy and didn't kill her."

"How?" Harry began.

"Her death was written up in the Daily Prophet. They wrote that Professor Snape did it. They've written that he's been on a killing spree all over Britain." She looked at him next. "It's going to be tricky clearing your name I think. Now!" She marched over to Snape who was looking at her in the same way he might study some strange creature floating in a glass jar in his laboratory. She peered over the top of the open book he held in his hands. "What does the charm say? What has to happen in order for him to occupy the body?"

Snape's eyes drifted to the page and he began to read the magical instructions, speaking them aloud as he went, " A potion is taken from a special cup..."

Hermione grinned at Harry.

"The Hufflepuff cup!"

Snape continued, "The essence of a woman..."

"Your mother! He has to kill her," Hermione said and waved at him to continue.

He dipped his head and read; "The body of the servant who has taken an oath of allegiance."

"Malfoy."

Harry thought about it. "But what about the Horcruxes?"

"They are clouding your thinking, Harry. They are getting in the way. You've been thinking all along that you must destroy them all before you can kill him. But that's not necessarily true." Hermione took the book from Snape's outstretched fingers and touched her wand to it , saying as she did "Inflamare!" The book burst into flame and was reduced to blackened ash in seconds.

"At least I don't think it is. Anyway, the Horcruxes are flawed. You can't make a Horcrux out of an animal or a Haunt."

"Hermione!" Harry gulped in astonishment.

She smirked and said, thinking that Harry was astonished at her burning the book, "Well if he doesn't have the directions then it won't help him much. Or her." She kicked at the ashes. "She might remember them. So..." She walked over to Draco and gently guided him towards the cabinet. She opened the door and pushed him into the dark and closed the door behind him. "Oh, and the Horcruxes. They are flawed. Voldemort is turning into a snake because he shares a soul with a snake. And Madam Prince," she paused and turned to Snape and said softly, "she is a haunt. She doesn't know she's dead and Voldemort doesn't either. He's lost so much of his humanness that he can't sense that she's not human anymore. She died in her rooms many years ago. Dumbledore evidently didn't have the heart to tell her she was dead. So, in effect, that Horcrux is no longer viable."

Harry dropped into a seat, his mouth gaping open and was shaking his head in wonder.

"Where is Draco now?" Snape asked. His voice was mildly tremulous. He was ignoring what she had just said.

"This is the cabinet that leads to Borgin and Burke's. The shop is closed so he'll be safe there until we fetch him." Hermione answered and tapped the door with her wand. "Now it's an entirely different cabinet."

"What good will that do?" Harry asked. He was trying to absorb the information and yet was being distracted by the noises coming from outside the castle and the flashes of light in the windows.

"He can't very well possess a body that isn't here," she said quickly but was nodding at Neville. "Hurry, Neville. Do it now."

Neville went to the door and opened it. Striding through it with the deepest and ugliest look on his face Harry had ever seen was Snape's doppelganger. An exact duplicate. Neville backed up and the twin closed in on him until he was not more than a step away. Neville pointed his wand and shouted, "RIDDIKULUS!"

At that moment, Hermione opened the door of the cabinet again and waved her wand. The Boggart was immediately and safely ensconced in the cabinet and Harry saw the cabinet wiggle before settling down and stopping on all four legs. Neville peered over at the real Snape and flushed a crimson red.

The four stood silently in the room and stared at the cabinet.

Snape was the first one to clear his throat and turn to her. He was about to voice his question when she jumped the gun and answered. "You see I thought to myself, what is it that scares Voldemort the most? And then I knew immediately. He's afraid of death! My experience was so horrible when I took my O.W.L.S. that I thought I might not pass dealing with the Boggart. Everyone gets surprised by them."

"We'll be in hiding..." Neville started to say, as if he knew that Hermione was off track, and Hermione interrupted.

"He can't know you're here with Harry, Professor. He'll kill you right away. We all have to hide so that he thinks Harry is here alone."

Harry heard screams coming from the hallway and caught the movement of a serpent's head coming through the door. It was Voldemort's snake, Nagini.

Neville chimed in without realizing there was any danger, "He'll want to know where Draco is and when he looks in the cabinet..."

"...he'll be taken by surprise. There will be time for all of us to use the wands. We'll have to be synchronized," Hermione cut in.

"Neville...Hermione...be silent!" Harry watched as the huge snake slithered towards them and stopped in front of him. He heard the soft voice of the snake in his head. It was sensing him through the tongue that flickered out and through the connection left behind in Harry's mind by Voldemort.

The great yellow eyes of the snake stared unblinking at all of them and the tongue flicked from its mouth as it hissed. "I am the one called Nagini. I serve the Master."

Harry heard the words and stared back. There was a moment of shocked silence and then instinctively he ventured to speak, "Why does a creature of the forest serve a dark master?"

The snake swayed hypnotically in front of him and responded, "We have no choice in this matter. He will hurt us and we do not like pain."

"I will set you free," Harry hissed and slowly rose to his feet. "You do not have to serve this dark master any longer."

"Harry, what are you saying to it?" Hermione whispered ferociously.

"We can be free only when that part of us that hurts us is gone," the snake said.

Harry understood immediately. The snake felt the foreignness of Voldemort's soul-piece, felt the coldness- the agony-he himself had just experienced.

"If you let me kill your master you will no longer suffer," Harry said. He did it with as much conviction as he could muster. "You will be free."

The snake dipped its head and at that moment Neville shouted "AVADA KEDAVRA!"

"No!" Harry shouted. "No." But it was too late. The snake arched and dropped to the floor dead. Harry looked down at his feet and then slowly raised his head to stare at Neville.

Neville was pasty faced and stood frozen with his wand arm out still pointing the Hufflepuff wand in his had. It glowed with a strange warm yellowish green light and Neville remained unharmed. he stammered, "I...I knew...knew I could kill it. It was only a...a snake."

Harry sighed and said, "You did her a favor Neville. Now she won't suffer anymore."

"But he destroyed a Horcrux!" Hermione said. "Now there are only two left."

"Two?" Harry was still stunned.

"Harry, Madam Snape is dead. Her Horcrux is no longer there. Only he doesn't know it yet. There are two, the cup and the one inside of him. You've got to get him to open the door of the cabinet. It's the only chance you'll have so we can all use these." She showed him the Ravenclaw wand. "We all use the wand from the House we really belong in. Neville killed the snake because his true skills are revealed by the wand. There's no time to explain!"

Harry remembered the tale Hermione had told him about almost being sorted into Ravenclaw in their first year. He stared down at his own wand, the Gryffindor wand, and was about to speak when a voice sounded from the open doorway.

"I am so glad that we are all here together."

Dementors were filling the hallways with a cold gloomy haze of fog. Students left behind on their way to safety were overwhelmed and dropped in their tracks. Older, more experienced witches and wizards, including Ginny Weasley, were fighting them off and making their way from floor to floor rescuing stranded students.

Ginny had stopped long enough in her flight to glance out the front doors of the castle and had seen Hagrid flying high on Buckbeak charging down two fire-breathing dragons and firing his pink umbrella at them as they swooped by. The grounds were shrouded in the haze of Dementors and the smoke from burning fires. Hundred of wizards and witches were now fighting. She watched in awe as Ron and Nymphadora Tonks struck down Fenrir and threw a silver net over him, pinning him to the ground. It had been Ron's idea to make the net and he had spent hours in transfiguring the metal into the finely woven net.

She was about to pull the doors closed along with Professor Flitwick when she saw Delores Umbridge making her way through the dark, and the snow. The woman was firing defensive spells off into the dark without really taking aim. As Ginny watched she saw the woman suddenly point her wand at an unsuspecting Auror and knock him off his feet.

She was stunned by what she was seeing. _She's hurting our people! She's hurting our side! _she thought and turned to look for help from someone around her. The large doors were swinging shut as a dozen wands were pointing at it and students were fighting the dark force that was stampeding in through the gap.

Ginny immediately knew what to do. She stepped out and ran towards the woman shouting, "PROTEGO!" Two wizards flew off their feet and she managed to grab the woman by the arm. "You shouldn't be here Madam Umbridge. You are too important to get hurt! Come with me and I'll help you!"

Umbridge looked at her and then around at the swarms of witches and wizards now almost at wand-to-wand combat and nodded hurriedly.

"Through here, hurry!" Ginny pulled her through the last crack in the immense doors and then down the hall, ducking as red and green flashes chipped flakes of marble from the walls. "Come with me I know a place you can hide."

Remus Lupin came running past and slowed only to shout at her, "Are you all right?"

Ginny nodded through the smoke.

"Get yourself to a safe place," he shouted as he headed down the hall.

The main hall was now burning and filling the hallways. Students were fleeing past them and teachers were shouting orders and spells simultaneously.

"In here, Madam!" Ginny threw open a door that led into a darkened classroom on the first floor.

"What is this?' Umbridge asked and stopped at the threshold.

"It's the Divination classroom," Ginny said with grave concern etched in her face. "Please you must hide! They are breaking through the doors!" They heard the doors springing open and slamming against the walls.

"Divination?" Umbridge said and began to back away.

"Oh no you don't!" Ginny placed her hands on the woman's back and shoved with all of her strength and then pulled the doors closed and locked them. She waited as long as she dared as she saw Death eaters entering the main hall. With her ear to the door she listened and finally heard a shriek. All Ginny could think of was the scar on the back of Harry's hand. "Serves you right, you horrible woman! Meet our new Divination teacher, Firenze!"

With that, she flew down the hall.


	16. Chapter 16

Ch 16 The Seventh Soul

They stood immobilized in the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom. Voldemort, fearing no one and nothing, wiggled in with the woman at his side. He was nothing more than an deformed, abhorrent snake-like creature and it surprised Harry that words could even come from the reptile lips. The wizard glanced once at the dead snake and moved past Harry to stand in the middle of the room. The cabinet sat there as well. It was obvious that it was out of place and that Voldemort recognized it.

"I'm having a hard time deciding who to kill first," he said and placed the remnant of his hand on its surface.

Harry cringed inwardly and prayed that he would not open the doors. _It's too soon_, he thought. Something was wrong and he couldn't put his finger on it. Harry stood across from Hermione and saw the look of absolute horror on her face. Neville looked as if he would go into some kind of catalytic seizure when he started drooling and shaking. Snape was standing very still.

Unknown to all of them, the portraits were in a flurry of activity. Occupants of portraits throughout the castle were busy ferrying information from floor to floor, teacher to teacher or were hiding behind their frames. One portrait, in particular, was currently empty. It's occupant was rushing and everyone was getting respectfully out of the way.

"Since the day Sybil Trelawney gave a prediction about me, my life has been unsettled," Voldemort was saying. "I do not choose to kill you all now, particularly you, Severus. I wish to see you suffer, as I have suffered. Severus, you have been like a son to me and yet you have committed the worst betrayal... ."

The voice droned on and yet Harry did not hear the words. He heard only one word and that was 'Trelawney'. _The cards. She read the cards_, he thought. _What did she say? What were her words? Something about a surprise. Something I wouldn't believe and yet if I don't believe it, it will be the end of me._

Harry fingered the wand in his hand. Hermione, Neville and Snape were at equi-distances from one another. It was as if they had stationed themselves at the North, South, East and west ends of the room forming a circle. The cabinet stood in the center and Voldemort walked, or rather slithered around the tight circle. The woman stood at the side of the cabinet and stared into space.

Harry's gaze was drawn to her.

To him, she looked like anyone else would look. Her flesh looked real, she moved and breathed and to him, looked human- not like a ghost. But then he had only ever seen Hogwarts ghosts and knew nothing about Haunts. He managed to look at Snape whose eyes were on her as well. _A Haunt? _he asked himself. _How could this flesh and blood woman be a haunt? _The dark eyes looked up at her son and for a moment Harry read something there. _Was there still a mother there? _he asked himself. _Could she still feel for her son, a son she had not seen in many, many years._

Focus Harry. What is it that you need to know? He fingered the wand again and looked across the room directly at Hermione. He could see that she was trembling and he felt sympathy for her. She had never face Voldemort directly, had never seen him in person. And yet, she was composing herself. She was looking at him with such a grave expression that he forgot his rambling thoughts for a moment.

"I want the boy. The Malfoy boy," Voldemort was saying. "I presume that you have sent him through the cabinet. Such a bother Severus. You cannot hide him from me."

__

The time is growing near, Harry thought. _He's going to send her through the cabinet to get Draco and the Boggart will reflect her fear- or it will be gone. There would be no surprise to give us time to raise our wands. Or something else will go wrong. We must all be ready to raise our wands at once, but we can't kill him yet. _The turmoil was distracting him. Harry knew in his heart that if he didn't figure out the problem soon, their chance would be gone and then they would all be dead.

Voldemort pulled his long cape around and faced Harry. "I have you to thank, Harry. I have learned so much from you. The little trick in the graveyard with the wands, and then the visit this evening! You have escaped me so many times that I have long since gotten over my anger." Harry blinked and Voldemort moved so fast that he was suddenly before him breathing in his face. "I will so enjoy killing you. And you will be the first to go since I no longer need you."

The face moved away and Harry shuddered. He knew they had minutes, if not seconds. His mind was suddenly empty of thoughts, and this, more than anything, terrified him. He was about to speak and try and draw Voldemort to the cabinet again when he glanced behind Hermione and saw something. He couldn't believe his eyes. Standing in a picture beside two goblins was Albus Dumbledore. And, his lips were moving.

Harry squinted and tried to make out the words. His attention was diverted by the sound of the woman. Elvira Snape had walked past her son and studied the pile of ashes that lay on the floor. She drew in a hissing breath. Voldemort's attention was also drawn to the sound. Harry immediately looked back at the picture on the wall.

__

Se...sev...Severus? Harry mimicked the words that Dumbledore was trying to speak. When he mouthed 'Severus' Dumbledore shook his head vigorously and said the word again. _Sev...sev...en...teen_. Harry again mouthed the word 'seventeen' and Dumbledore nodded. He held up two fingers. Harry couldn't believe his eyes. They were playing charades while the world's most evil wizard was reminiscing.

"So this is the book," Voldemort stared at the ashes. It was hard to tell if there was anger there. The face was now so foreign and reptilian that Harry couldn't tell. "We shall put this right Madam, and your son will help us."

He waved an appendage and a golden chalice appeared on the teachers desk. Harry gulped. It was the cup. Voldemort was going to perform the charm. He would need Draco. It was all going to happen soon. He turned back to the portrait. Dumbledore was now mouthing another word.

__

Buh...Burrrr...th...day. Harry mouthed and did not yet understand the word he spoke. Hermione was staring at him with eyebrows raised. And then he knew. Looking at her and repeating the words, he pulled it all together. _Seventh_ _Birthday! _The time-turner. Hermione had given him a time-turner and it was on a chain around his neck_. Yes, But what to do with it all? _He pondered the question even as his fingers crept up to his neck_._

Voldemort was using his wand in his mittened fingers to pour a potion into the chalice. He motioned Elvira Snape to his side. Harry knew he meant to kill her as part of the incantation. Only he needed Draco first.

"You will all be witness to my rebirth, once again," Voldemort hissed. "I am happy to see that you are not trying to resist: for resistance would be futile. Elvira open the cabinet door and I will summon the boy to me. Prepare to aid me, stand here." He gestured with his wand to the cabinet and he moved the chalice with his wand and stood in front while she stood off to the side.

__

Yes, that's good. Stand directly in front of it. Harry felt mild relief that the Dark Lord had taken a perfect position directly in front of the cabinet and Madam Snape had stepped to the side. He reached and felt for the tiny time-turner with his fingers. It was very small and probably would give him a minute, or even less, seconds. _What could he do with seconds?_ he wondered.

"Open the doors," Voldemort demanded.

Harry broke the chain holding the time-turner and gripped the Gryffindor wand tightly.

She reached for the door and to everyone's surprise, even Voldemort's, her hand slipped through it. Although she looked very real, it was obvious that she was a ghost. She stood staring at her hand and Voldemort in his haste to complete his task and thinking that her hand had merely slipped, grew angry and raised his own wand.

The doors flew open and instead of a dark cupboard space a set of four large black horses came running out. Each had a tall, dark feathered plumes rising from its' head, similar to the tack that was used on horses pulling hearses. And in fact, what trailed behind was a driver-less black carriage, detailed in silver with silver lamps on each corner of the elongated body and with clear glass windows covering both sides. The very fancy silver lettering on the glass panes read: Caput's Funeral Home.

They all peered in to see a coffin with a glass lid. Tucked into the black coffin with the white satin lining was a very familiar figure. It was the figure of a much younger and completely human, Tom Riddle, Jr.

Voldemort was the first to recognize the corpse as the wagon stopped in front of him and the horses huffed and heaved to catch their wind. The rattle at the end of his tail shook violently and there was a screeching, "Arghhhh!" that erupted from his mouth.

Harry squeezed his eyes shut so that he could not be taken by the view. Instead, he frantically fingered the time-turner and asked the question; _What am I supposed to do?, _over and over.

This time his eyes opened and he saw each of them raising their arms with the wands pointed at Voldemort. The wizard was not aware of what was happening but was beginning to turn towards them. At that moment, Hermione shouted, "Now!" and Harry shouted, "No!" and flipped the time turner.

Time stopped for everyone but him. He had looked at Neville at the last second and the words of Sibyll Trelawney burst into his head with the force of a hammer, _'Whoever welds the wand must be true in their heart and the wand will answer its' master._

Harry staggered on his feet at the realization_. I'm not a Gryffindor. He changed me when he gave me this scar. _He knew what to do instantly.He walked over and yanked the Slytherin wand from Snape's hand. When he did he felt the same tingling feeling he had gotten the day that his own wand was picked for him by Ollivander_. _He looked into Snape's face. The man was just forming the words to the killing spell on his lips.

"You lied to me, didn't you?" Harry asked rhetorically. "You should have been sorted into Gryffindor_."_

He shoved the Gryffindor wand into Snape's outstretched hand and took three steps back to his own position. Trelawney had been right. No matter how badly he had wanted to believe Dumbledore's protestations and how many times he had tried to convince himself that he belonged in Gryffindor, Voldemort had changed that.

Harry took a breath. Time shifted just as he raised his hand.

Four wands came up and four voices shouted, "AVADA KEDAVRA!"

What remained was a woman standing in the middle of the room looking at the figure of a man who was approximately the same age as Snape, but with white hair. The reptilian features were gone and what was left was not unlike the false corpse shown by the boggart.

Harry recognized Tom Riddle and it was very clear he was dead. Elvira Snape on the other hand was disappearing. She was still standing in the middle of the room but her feet were no longer visible. She was disappearing from the feet up. The effect had reached her waist. She looked up into her son's face and began to form words. Before they were out of her mouth she blinked out . One minute she was there and the next she wasn't.

"Where...?" Harry began.

"Don't worry," Snape said, quietly. "She's joined Lucius Malfoy in her old apartments. We'll see her again."

Harry looked at him closely. Snape had not yet looked at the wand he held in his hand.

The boggart whizzed off into the cupboard when Neville had the where-with-all to say, somewhat weakly, "Riddiculus." The gold chalice dropped out of midair to the floor, spilling its' contents and rolled to Harry's feet.

He reached to pick it up when Hermione screamed, "No, Harry don't touch it!"

He looked up at her, his fingers almost skimming the surface. He could see his own bug-eyed reflection in its solid gold surface.

"Don't touch it," she said again. "It contains the Seventh Soul, Harry. If you touch it, he can possess you and come alive through you. We have to find a way to destroy it."

She had walked over and Neville and Snape closed in with her. The four of them stood looking at the cup.

"I know how to destroy it," Neville said.


	17. Chapter 17

Ch17 The Department of Mysteries

Harry sat in the old chair next to the fireplace and the roaring fire within and absentmindedly stared at the old elf. Hoagie was curled up next to the fire like an old tired dog. He snored periodically and stirred, but rarely woke. Harry nodded and warmed his feet at the fire. The knock at the door was no surprise when it came.

Owls lined the stone fence outside of his house with undelivered mail. He knew that when they got hungry they would fly away, perhaps return the unread letters to the writers or fly away somewhere else when they got tired; he didn't know and didn't care.

He had settled into his parents house and had made it his own almost immediately. The old house elf, Hoagie, had been true to his word and had brought in everything Harry needed. Now, Harry rarely stirred from the house. He'd stand and watch the snow as it deepened in the garden and watch birds feeding at the little house on top of the pole and never venture very far away. He knew that Halloween had passed and the snows of November had come and still he had not talked to or seen his friends. The chore that awaited him pulled at his heart and his mind so that he found himself unable to sleep most nights. He would rise from bed and walk the house in his bare feet and listen to the quiet. Nothing, not even a whisper disturbed the silence. He felt comforted by the darkness and the home that should have been his from the beginning.

The cup, the golden cup, that was all that was left of Voldemort, had been taken by armed guard to the Ministry of Magic and kept there in the Department of Mysteries awaiting its' final dispensation. Scrimgeour had given explicit instructions that such dispensation was to be left up to Harry. The still-acting Minister did not want to incur any more anger towards himself then he had already suffered. Many saw his actions during the short-lived war as something akin to negligence and the Daily Prophet had spent pages discussing it as only they could do.

The knock came again and this time his head came up and he heard a familiar voice.

"Harry Potter, if you don't let me in then I will break down the door!" Hermione's shout made some resemblance of a smile curl his lips. He dropped the lap robe and walked carefully to the window to peek out. There were two figures in the snow. One he could tell by height and weight; it was Hermione. The other was tall and fully cloaked so that it could be anyone.

It had grown dark outside and the snow was falling heavily. He saw bundles in her arms, wrapped in bright colored wrap and knew immediately that it was now Christmas and he had let time slip by unnoticed. Harry didn't care. It didn't matter if it was Christmas or Spring or Summer of Fall; he did not want to see anyone. Not even, especially not, his closest friends.

He walked to the door leaned against it and closed his eyes. _Please, please go away, Hermione._

"Harry, I know you are in there, now open up!"

He knew that she would persist. He opened the door and stepped away from it into the darkness and moved back to his chair at the fire.

"It's about time!"

He could tell that they had entered and had closed the door behind them as the cold draft circled the room and then melted away. He waited, not wanting to greet them or to even stand and look at them.

"Where did you learn your manners, Harry?" Hermione said as she came around the chair and looked down at him. She dumped the packages unceremoniously at his feet and warmed her hands at the fire, glaring at him.

He glared back.

"You look terrible, Harry," she muttered as the frown slipped away from her face. She glanced down at the house elf asleep at her feet. "Isn't Dobby taking care of you?" She asked and waited. He didn't answer. "Where is he?"

Harry nodded towards the kitchen and her eyes followed his motion.

"Very well. Some tea or hot chocolate is in order, I think; perhaps a sandwich. I'll go and fetch them while you have a chat." She looked over his chair at someone behind them and then left the room in search of Dobby and the kitchen.

Harry didn't turn to look at the other person. He watched the flames as they danced up the chimney and waited.

"Good evening." The deep voice came from over his head.

Harry knew who it was without looking up. But his anger was immediate and hot. He was on his feet facing Snape. "Who...why... Get out!"

Snape stared at him blandly and sat down in the opposite chair.

"This is my home and I have not invited you to be here!" Harry was clenching his hands into fists. His wand was on the mantle and a few feet away. He looked at it and then back to Snape.

"I will leave after I have said what I have come to say," Snape said. He removed his own gloves and laid them carefully in his lap. "Believe me, Potter, I do not wish to stay any longer than is necessary." The dark fathomless eyes stared at him and then nonchalantly roamed the room.

The shelves by the fireplace held mementos; the golden egg from the Tirwizards tournament, a golden snitch held suspended by a spell, some of his Hogwarts books and a chess set. Hedwig stood on her perch asleep. Harry's Firebolt stood in the corner. It had not been used for a long time. The only thing not present in the room was the Slytherin wand. He had placed it very carefully under the floor boards where he had originally found the Gryffindor wand.

Harry remained standing, feet apart, teeth clenched. Snape's eyes finally roamed back to his face.

"We must discuss what is to happen to the cup. You have avoided the decision for too long. It is dangerous for it to remain at the Ministry or for it even to exist." Snape's voice was calm and Harry could not detect any sarcasm or criticism in it.

"It will keep," Harry growled in response.

Snape nodded and then turned to look at the fire. "You are the only one that can destroy it. You knew that since the night we killed him."

Harry turned away and walked the perimeter of the room, stopping to stare out the window into the night and the falling snow. He wanted his privacy; he wanted them to go. Most of all he wanted to not feel angry anymore. And yet, the man who had betrayed his parents, who had been cruel and unfair to him in class, was now sitting in his home. Still, Harry could not bring himself to do anything.

"However, I cannot force you against your will. You are stubborn, Potter. I will give you that." Snape opened his robe and studied him as he came back around to his chair and sat down. The man continued to talk, "Whatever you decide, it would be wise for you to return to Hogwarts fairly soon. You are too far behind and you will need to set for the N.E.W.T.S. in the Spring. I fear that you may have to work extremely hard to even pass ."

Harry looked at him as if he were studying a toad. "Are you mad?" he finally managed. "Return to Hogwarts?"

Snape nodded. "No matter how well off your parents were Potter, I doubt they left you enough money to live on for the rest of your life. I was led to believe by Professor McGonagall that you wanted to be an Auror. In order to do that you must set for the exams. You will find that my Potion's class will be much more difficult then you have previously experienced."

Harry shook his head as if trying to shake out the cobwebs. "Potion's class?"

"Don't be dull-witted, Potter. I have been reinstated. You will not have the luxury of the potion's book that belonged to my mother to get you by. It will be hard studying for you, I fear. However, most of the teachers are willing to give you additional instruction. I will set aside time as well."

Harry was still staring at the man as if he were growing a second pair of ears. "What, and stay in Slytherin and have you as my head of House? Not a chance, Snape! You felt the same way I did when you saw that wand in my hand. You'd rather see me dead then accept that I am a Slytherin. Tell the truth!"

Snape looked at him as if he were bored and shifted slightly in his chair. "You hardly have what it takes to be a Slytherin, Potter." He waited and when Harry didn't speak he rose to his feet and towered over him. His voice was a vehement whisper when he spoke.

"Humans cannot be categorized into four houses. Have you not learned that yet? People can be greedy, devouring, and yes, brave, courageous and wise. If we have not learned that yet, then we will never learn. There are no longer Houses at Hogwarts. There is no longer a sorting. I am not the head of Slytherin house any longer."

Harry stared up and swallowed hard.

Snape continued, "You cannot stay in this house forever and hide. There is still a job to do." The words were harsh, but the tone of his voice wasn't.

Harry stood face to face with him at the fireside. He could tell that Snape was struggling with some unknown feeling of his own.

"There is a danger," Snape continued. "His essence is... the Seventh part of his soul is in that cup. Because he possessed you, because there was a connection between you, no one else can destroy it."

Harry studied the man for a long time. Many things went through his mind they faced each other. "You think I am a coward," he finally said.

Snape stared at him and then spoke, "It is dark magic, Potter. If you were not afraid, if you did not have misgivings, then I would think you a fool. But no, I do not think you are a coward.

Harry knew then that Snape was the only one who would have any understanding of what he was about to say. He finally took a breath and said what had been on his mind for months. "When I take it in my hand... ." He stopped unable to go on.

Snape finished the sentence for him, "As I said, there is a danger. His soul can possess you at that moment and force you to not destroy the cup."

"I would turn into another Lord Voldemort."

Snape nodded. "It is possible."

"Why not leave the cup where it is?" Harry said sinking back into the chair, pushing back as if trying to disappear into the upholstery. This time the feeling was the same as if the weight of the entire world was pushing him down into it.

"If I understand human beings, there will come a time when someone will be tempted," Snape stood and was speaking to him from across the room. He spoke very gently. "They will take the cup and the essence will be added to their own. That is not to say there may not ever be another Lord Voldemort..." Snape was now whispering. "But many lives have been lost and many ruined because of this one. We must destroy this cup and we must do it now."

Harry looked up, rubbing at his chin nervously. It had come and he knew it would come. He clenched his teeth and looked away once again. He knew in that moment of staring into the other man's face that Snape understood that he both wanted to destroy the cup and also; didn't want to destroy it. It reached out to him...called to him and he felt a stirring inside, a longing, a desire to have it as his own.

Harry turned his face into the dark out of fear that Snape would put those longings into words.

Snape removed an object from his robe and held it out. Harry finally looked up. Snape was holding the Gryffindor wand. "This belongs to you."

Harry studied it for a moment without accepting it. "I will go with you tonight if you make me a promise."

Snape raised his eyebrow and waited, his outstretched arm withdrawn. He was still holding the wand.

Harry continued, "When I take the cup in my hand; if I should change...turn... ." He struggled to put his feelings into words. "If something happens. You must promise me that you will be the one to kill me. Immediately. I can trust that you won't hesitate Snape, not like one of my friends would. You must do it immediately."

Snape nodded just as Hermione walked in carrying a tray.

"We need to go tonight," Harry said. He stood.

"Go? Go where?" Hermione asked pouring out tea into three cups. "It's Christmas Eve."

"To the Ministry of Magic," Harry said and wandered into the dark of the room to a closet where he had hung his cloak. "We're going to destroy the cup tonight. It's Christmas eve and no one will be there."

Hermione stood with a cup in both hands and her mouth gaping open. She looked at him and then at Snape. She finally gasped, "Are you out of your mind?"

Harry and Snape remained silent.

"Fine!" she said slamming the cups on the tray and spilling tea across the floor. "Fine! But you are not going alone. You will wait until I have contacted a few people; Ron for one and Ginny and Neville and a few others. You will do this or I will raise the alarm and have everyone including the Minister himself there."

Harry knew that she would do it. He could see the look of determination on her face. "Why do we have to have all of these people there?" he asked bitterly.

"Because you still don't understand, do you Harry," she said frowning. "It wasn't your war. It belonged to all of us. We couldn't share in all of it, all of the danger, but we shared in most of it. I have been by your side from the beginning. I am your friend. You have other friends." She walked to him and reached up to put her arms around him and draw him close. "You've been sitting in this house for months and you've pushed us away. Now it's time to let us stand beside you." She stepped back and looked into his face. "Harry, we love you. Don't you understand that? I can't let you leave and be alone."

For the first time the coldness and emptiness that he had been feeling in his heart was now replaced with pain. It was a pain of loneliness and sadness. His fear that he had become so much like Voldemort was now questionable. He knew that over the months he had felt himself grow dark. It was almost like he had stepped into the Dark lord's body; that he had somehow possessed him instead of being possessed. Something had overtaken him and he had been terrified when the understanding had struck him that it was he that needed to weld the Slytherin wand and not Snape. _I've gone down the road too far_, he had thought at the moment he had shouted out the killing curse.

__

Please, please don't let me be the next Lord Voldemort, he had said a million times since that night in the Defense Against the dark Arts classroom. _It's not fair! Why me! _And he had known, even before Snape said the words, that taking the cup in his hands, even to destroy it, might mean his own death- or worse.

He stood silently and then nodded to her. "All right, we'll meet there in one hour." He donned the long black cloak and looked at Snape who had already pulled his over his head and was headed for the door.

"You know how to get in?" he asked and stepped into the dark and snow.

She nodded to him as he closed the door.

This time as Harry stepped into the telephone box and dialed the number, he was with Snape. It was rather awkward to be in such a small space dropping below street level, in the middle of London, at night, on Christmas Eve, with Severus Snape.

The calm, cool voice of the Ministry spoke to them as they descended. "The Ministry welcomes you..." the customary greeting met his ears. "...you will be asked to submit your wands for inspection at the desk before entering. For security reasons a wizard from the Department of Law Enforcement will be along momentarily to authorize your admittance. Please be patient. Thank you for visiting."

They dropped to the atrium level and the door opened silently. Harry noticed that the fountain of Magical Brethren had been replaced with a nondescript sculpture. The remaining area was as he remembered it. They headed for the lifts.

"You don't intend to wait for the others," Snape said casually, noticing Harry's hurried step.

They entered the elevator. Harry didn't answer.

"That is wise."


	18. Chapter 18

Ch 18 The Death Chamber

The room was very familiar. Harry knew the feel and smell and sight of it. He knew how to find it and didn't hesitate until he reached the doorway. At the foot of the stone steps was the circular pit and then, there were the steps that ascended to the platform with the arch. An entry or exit to some place, no one knew.

The lights came on immediately. Harry was thinking about his sleepless nights, not just the ones that he'd been having since they had killed Voldemort, but all the nights combined together. He was thinking of his lost life, the days he could have spent with his parents, days when he could have led a normal life. He was trying as hard as he could to find the rage that he had once had and it was gone. Now he stood at the threshold and he looked at the curtain that was hanging in the doorway. Together he and Snape had found the glass and gold case that held the cup and had brought it to the doorway of the Room.

Moments later, after gathering his courage together, Harry entered; feeling both the drag of his heart and the pull of the archway below.

__

I can throw the cup in and follow it, he thought. _I can end my pain right now and step through_. _Mum and dad and Sirius will be there, maybe others._

Snape stepped in front of him and turned. "I've offered this before. It's time to take it." He held the Gryffindor wand out again.

Harry stared at it and felt himself tremble, afraid to take it, afraid to touch it. "At the bottom of the stairs." He started down the stairs, remembering every moment of the day that he and his friends had barged into the Ministry in his ill-fated rescue mission.

Snape snarled audibly and followed him down the steps. "Potter!"

Harry stopped and looked back halfway down. He remained silent.

"You must open the case and remove the cup. It is best done with this wand. Don't be foolish. Take it now. It is yours." Snape stepped down beside him once again.

Harry turned and started down the steps again. A hand stopped him and turned him once again. It was done gently.

"You are wrong in your beliefs. You are not Slytherin nor are you tainted by Voldemort's soul. Many see you as a hero." Harry curled his lip in his own snarl and Snape hurried on, "Many need a hero so they can hide behind them, trembling from their own fear and lack of courage. They need a hero to do the work for them. Whether you are a hero or not hardly matters at this moment and carries no weight with me. If you think that you must do this for anyone else but yourself then you are committing a grave error. The goal is to get the job done, and done quickly; done in any manner possible. It does not mean done in a perfect way. Your passions have always gotten in your way. You find it difficult to view a situation without allowing that emotion to bleed through and it clouds your thinking. In this, Voldemort has won a victory." His voice was almost pleading in its sincerity. He continued, " The connection you have with him devours you even now." Snape sighed and continued warily, "However, few would understand...as I do...the thoughts one can have..." Snape stopped, unable to continue for a moment as he waded into unknown territory. "I think that one can be seduced...betrayed by such false feelings. Voldemort had that ability ... to replace a person's personality with his own."

Harry waited for a heartbeat and said very quietly, "Time is a luxury, Professor Snape, perhaps you should get to the point."

"What is inside of you now is not your true self, your thoughts are not your own, but only ghosts of his. I understand what that means... the darkness and depression." Snape stuttered momentarily and then finished, "Only when the cup is destroyed will you regain your true self."

"I thought that's why we were here," Harry shot back immediately. "I thought that's exactly what we are doing except we're standing here on this step and time is going by and the longer I stand here the greater the chance we'll be discovered..."

"That is not the issue and you know it," Snape snapped. "You are thinking about stepping through with it. That is committing suicide. You're afraid he can still win. You're afraid you're not strong enough to throw the cup through without sacrificing yourself; without going with it."

Harry turned and hurried down the rest of the stairs, with the gold case floating before him. He was about to start up the other side. His foot was raised and suddenly it was if a huge weight was bearing down on him. He broke into a sweat and his heart raced. _What? _he questioned silently. _What is this?_

He hadn't really counted on there being anything but his own reservations to stop him from flying up those steps and throwing the cup through.

Just as he raised his foot to take the second step he heard the voices above them. He turned his head slowly feeling as if his body was made of stone.

"Harry!" Hermione shouted out.

There, on the topmost tier, was Arthur and Molly Weasley, Remus Lupin, Ron and Hermione, Neville and Ginny Weasley. Harry turned once again and started up the stairs towards the opening and the veil that swayed tantalizing towards him. Sweat beaded and ran down his face. He concentrated on moving his feet and keeping his wand steady as he climbed. A voice in his head began a pounding chant...stop...stop...stop! The voice was familiar.

Snape followed him. Harry could see out of the corner of his eye how easy it was for the man to climb the stairs and he felt a weight dragging at his own feet that was so strong he wondered if the flesh would be torn from his body.

"Take the wand. It will ease the way," Snape whispered.

Harry shook his head. It took every ounce of strength he could muster to do it. He raised his foot and placed it on the next step. The voices behind him, now at the foot of the dais were incoherent and mumbled. He couldn't make out the words. His full concentration was on the next step.

"Harry, you cannot destroy me. We are twins. We are alike, no parents, no home," the wheedling voice penetrated his brain. "You cannot kill half of yourself. We understand each other like no one else. If we survive no one can harm us any longer."

Harry closed his eyes and felt the next step with the sole of his foot and pulled himself upwards.

"We don't need friends, we have no friends. They can't be trusted. They abandon us, lie to us, deceive us." Memories flooded him. Memories of Ron's anger when his name was pulled out of the Goblet of Fire, Cho's abandonment, and worst of all; Dumbledore's secrets. For the first time in months he recalled childhood memories of living with the Dursleys. His heart began to ache from the pain he felt of their neglect and abuse.

Tears began to fall along with the sweat. He shrugged off his cloak, holding the wand in one hand and then the other; stepping out of it and dropping it to the steps and still Snape took each stair with him.

Harry was aware that the others had tried to join them on the stairs and were being repelled by some force. What was foremost in his mind when he opened his eyes was the arch. He could see the crumbling stone in minute detail and the black curtain moving towards him, beckoning.

The case floated in front of him. It was almost at the topmost step and he was only a step behind. He groaned with the agony of his efforts.

"His thoughts are not your thoughts," Snape hissed. "Fight him! Resist him!"

Harry tucked his head down and moved like an ox straining against the yoke. His muscles grew taut with the movement and he finally placed his foot on the step nearest the top. He knew that the people below were shouting. He could hear them through his own kind of veil and yet couldn't make out the words.

"Potter, don't let him win," Snape said, leaning into him to speak into his ear. "Take the wand from my hand when you reach the top. Take it!"

Harry stood at the top directly in front of the curtain. This time he could hear distinct voices coming from behind the veil. _Harry! Come to us. We are here_.

"Don't be fooled by the voices. The father of lies calls to you. Don't trust what you here." The deep voice spoke calmly to him and Harry turned slightly and then rolled his head as if to stretch the muscles in his neck. "Take the wand!"

He felt his hand pried open and the wand forced into it. The gold and glass case that had held the cup had disappeared and the cup was now sitting on the stone floor before the curtain. When the wand touched his hand, he was able, for the first time, since beginning his ascent, to take a full and deep breath. The air was cold, if slightly stale.

"Take the cup in your hand and don't hesitate," Snape coached. "Throw it in."

A voice, sweet and low swirled around him as he reached for the goblet. "Harry, you face death but it is not your time to die."

He looked up, his hand suspended over the cup. The curtain moved and for a brief moment he thought he saw a figure.

His fingers wrapped around the cup and suddenly his head was filled with raw, searing energy; A force of darkness and evil and coldness that shot through him and turned him cold. He screamed in agony and lifted the cup, fighting the flood of images and thoughts that ravaged his brain. "I CAN'T!" he wailed. "I'm not strong enough!"

Moments turned into eternity as he stood facing the archway with the cup in his hand. He felt the touch of the hands on his back even as the thoughts of the seventh soul that resided inside the cup thundered through his brain. Harry's only thoughts were: _Snape is going to push me through the archway. He's going to kill me!_

Hermione raised her hands to her face. She was screaming and crying at the same time. She turned away just as she saw Snape place his hands on Harry's shoulders.

Ron was shouting and turning as red as his hair. He was wild with fear and throwing himself at the invisible wall that stood between himself and the stairs. The wall was effectively bouncing him back.

Remus was standing stunned, still looking upwards, wand pointed but useless against the force that enclosed the area. He was tight-lipped. It was clear to all that the moment he had the chance the first spell he would use would be to kill Snape.

Molly Weasley was crying and holding onto Arthur who stood with his arms around her.

Ginny sat on one of the stone benches, alone and weeping silently.

Neville seemed to be the only one who stood watching with any composure. His brow was rippled in a frown and he appeared to be concentrating. His hands were folded before him as if he were waiting.

"Harry, do it now! Throw it in," Snape crooned softly, standing behind him, instead of pushing, he was pulling him close in an embrace.

Harry pitched the cup towards the curtain that was only a footstep away. It left his hand and with it flashes of energy emanated from it as it sailed forward through the curtain and finally vanished.

Harry collapsed; two hands gently lowering him to the floor.


	19. Chapter 19

Ch 19 The Awakening

At half past seven in the evening, Harry opened his eyes. That was the only thing he moved, because as he became aware of himself and his surroundings he realized that he could not move anything else. It felt as if the weight of a building lay on his limbs. He was also aware that he was laying in a hospital bed in a ward at St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries.

The second, and most startling realization was that he recognized the man that was standing at his bedside and what the implications of that were. It was Gilderoy Lockhart.

"Oh, I see you are awake!" Lockhart said grinning with his overly bright, white smile. "It's been ever so long and each day I come to see if you've awakened. Would you like a picture of me? The others already have one."

Harry found that he couldn't speak; that for some reason his vocal cords were rusty or unused. He opened his mouth but the words did not come out. He finally managed to roll his head slightly to the right and left at Lockhart who was anxiously anticipating an answer to his question. When it didn't come he grimaced and wandered off down the ward.

Harry studied the door to the room as if expecting someone to come in who was more welcome. In the meantime, he began a slow progressive study of his condition. He noticed that with some concentration his fingers began to move and he could more easily move his head. He found that he could shift his upper torso a little and raise his chin up and down. Each motion caused some pain and discomfort and he rested between spurts of movement.

It was growing dark outside when he did finally have a visitor. It was a healer who stepped in to dispense potions and noticed Harry staring at her. She gasped, and immediately left the room.

__

Good, I've been noticed, he thought.

Twenty minutes later the room was literally flooded with people. Every Weasley of the entire Weasley family had crowded into the room which included one additional Weasley. Harry watched as Hermione stepped forward with an infant in her arms. She bent and kissed his cheek and then turned and handed the child to Ron.

"Can you speak, Harry?"

He rolled his head and squinted. His habit was to reach for his glasses when he woke. Now he found it impossible to move his arm and had no idea where his glasses were, since he had not been the last to take them off. He knew that there were a lot of people standing around the bed staring at him and he normally would have reached for them but hadn't accomplished the task of raising his arms.

"Do you know who I am?" she asked.

He nodded and licked his lips. The most that came out was a low grunt.

"It's all right. You'll get your speech back and everything else in time. The healers assured us." It was Ron standing over him and speaking.

Harry blinked and suddenly Hermione gasped and a moment later his glasses dropped onto his nose.

"Oh how stupid of me to have forgotten. There, is that better?"

He nodded and gazed at the people around him. Besides the Weasleys, there was Remus Lupin who had taken a position by the bed. Neville Longbottom was there with Professor McGonagall and Hagrid. There were other Hogwarts teacher and some students. He looked at Ron and the baby again and then at Hermione.

"Errr...mmmmm...i...neee," he growled with a great deal of effort, at last satisfied that his voice was going to work again. "Owwwwwww llllllonnnnggggggggg?" he asked.

She took his hand and smiled weakly. "Harry you've been unconscious for over two years. It's going to take some time for you to gain your strength."

He dropped his head back on the pillow in astonishment. _Two years! I've been unconscious for two years! _He stared at the baby who was also red-haired and who was chubby and barely a year old. She noticed his glance.

"This is my son, Harry," She sat on the edge of the bed and smiled. "Ron and I are married. This is little Harry Ronald Weasley." She took the little fist in her hand and kissed it, gazing up at Ron for a moment. "I know it's a lot to take in. We have plenty of time now that we know you're all right."

Harry rolled his head to look at Lupin who stood at his other side. "Did...did we doooo it?"

Lupin frowned slightly and then raised his eyebrows. "The cup? You're asking about the cup? Yes, Harry. You threw it through the veil and destroyed it. We can tell you all about it at another time when you're stronger. Harry..." his voice caught, I can't tell you... I am so glad to have you back."

Harry nodded slowly and searched the faces. People stepped up to the bed and took his hand and smiled down at him, wishing him well. He was mildly shocked to see Bill's face, now stripped with terrible scars. Fleour stood beside him and bent low to give Harry a kiss full on his mouth. He noticed that she was also very pregnant. She saw his eyes travel to her stomach.

"They say the baby will be all right," she said and reached for Bill's hand. "Bill has not had any attacks during the full moon.'

Harry nodded. Each stepped back and then others stepped forward.

Hagrid lifted him almost bodily from the bed as he bent down to give him a hug.

Hermione gasped and tugged at him. "Hagrid, Harry is probably a little stiff and sore. Be careful!"

"Oh yeah," the man said and laid him back against the pillow.

"It's alri...'agrid, it's alrigh...," Harry mumbled although he felt that he'd been bent double by the exertion and the words came out slurry and mispronounced. He couldn't seem to get a hold of his tongue and control it.

"We 'ave your place already for yer," Hagrid said happily. "Soon as we heard, we sent the house elves over to open your parents house and aired it out. In a few days it'll be all ready." Hagrid smiled and then big tears welled up and he sobbed, "We thought you was lost Harry; lost forever!"

"'anks, 'agrid," Harry managed to say and pat his friend's hand. "It'll be alri... now."

McGonagall patted his hand and squeezed it and then led Hagrid off to a corner of the room where his wails of relief and grief were mildly softened.

Little by little, people wandered out of the room until Ginny was able to make her way to the bedside. She smiled at him and took his hand. Everyone moved away talking excitedly.

Harry studied her face. She had grown older and looked more mature. She was even prettier then he remembered her and she was dressed in sophisticated rust and green colored robes.

"You still at 'ogwarts or done?" he asked.

"This Spring," she answered. "I took my N.E.W.T.S."

"Is it Spring?"

"Summer," she whispered. "Your birthday is just a few days away."

He nodded again afraid to ask the question that was stuck in his throat. "Do you- have you found someone?" He looked over at Ron and Hermione with their son. They were talking to Gilderoy Lockhart; or more precisely he was talking to them.

She stared back at him and then said, "I've waited and will continue to wait for you, Harry. There was never a doubt in my mind that you wouldn't wake up some day. There's plenty of time to think about that later. You need time to rest and to catch up."

He took a deep breath and closed his eyes for a moment until he felt her hand slipping out of his. "No. Don't go. Not yet. I want to sleep. " He thought of the words he wanted to say before saying them. He wanted to be clear, "I need to see someone first. Is Snape here?"

She had leaned over him so that he didn't have to gasp out his words. Now, she sat upright and grasped his hand tighter. "Why do you want to see him?"

Harry frowned and looked around the room. Lupin had been standing to one side and was speaking to McGonagall. His gray eyes met Harry's and searched them for a moment before turning back to the older woman. Tonks had just come into the room followed by several others; members of the old Order of the Phoenix; including Kingsley Shacklebolt and Mad-eye Moody.

"Where is he?" Harry asked.

"He's usually away and hard to find, Harry," Ginny murmured as she saw the group coming their way. "He took on the job of hunting down the Death Eaters after the war; especially Lucius Malfoy and Draco.

"Draco?" Harry was trying to gather his thoughts and felt his mind grow fuzzy. "What's Draco got up to?"

"Later," she said and quickly kissed him on the cheek. "People want to say hello. Then you need to sleep. Mum's dying to get you home and feed you. Soon as you're ready, you're coming home with us, then later maybe to your house. Okay?"

He looked at her green eyes and squeezed her hand. "Okay."

Weeks later he was sitting on a bench in his own garden watching the garden gnomes run through the grass when a figure stepped through his garden gate and walked very slowly towards him. Harry sensed the presence almost immediately although he didn't turn to look.

When there was no longer movement he looked up into the face of his previous Potion's master.

"Good day, Mr. Potter," Snape said coolly.

"Hello, Mr. Snape," Harry responded. He waved his hand to a chair nearby. "Would you like something cool to drink?"

Snape shook his head and said, "I see that you are recovering."

Harry remained silent, thinking to himself. The man was changed. His look was not as dark or as grim. He wore different clothes and looked at him differently. _Of course, we have all changed, _Harry thought bitterly of the lost time. He also had to remind himself that the man that sat before him had literally saved his life and he needed to be careful of the inflection in his own voice. To Harry it may have been only yesterday that he saw the same old Snape, but to this man, it was two years in the past.

"I am feeling better, yes," Harry answered finally. "The hardest part is learning about what has taken place while I was...asleep."

Snape didn't say anything.

"However, Hermione comes by every day and leaves the Daily Prophet for me and tells me what she is doing at the Ministry. She told me weeks ago that you have been hunting the old Death Eaters down."

Snape folded his longs legs over one another and his hands in his lap. "Yes. There was a breach of security that night in the tower and Lucius escaped. It is understandable, there was much going on."

"It was regrettable that some of the students were injured," Harry said conversationally. "I understand Draco joined his father."

Snape nodded. "The spell that bound him was released, as you know, when Voldemort was killed."

"There were aftereffects," Harry said.

"Yes, I'm afraid that there were. Also, I think that the death of his mother and the torture of his father at our hands, forced him to make a decision. It was not a good decision." Snape's delicate white hands fluttered once as if to say, 'ah well, it couldn't be helped' and then dropped back into his lap.

"Professor?" Harry began and then waved his own hand in dismissal, "Sorry, I've not gotten used to some things. Mr. Snape. I won't keep you. I understand that you are busy."

"So we come to the point?" Snape said quietly.

Harry looked at him and waited a moment. He was not sure whether he still spoke to an enemy or to a friend; although he didn't think of Snape as a friend in the same way he thought of his true friends. He ventured his first question, the first one that came to mind, "I'd like to know where we stand with one another?"

Snape gazed at him with eyes that betrayed no emotion, no feeling. "Where we stand, Mr. Potter? Is this what has brought me here?"

Harry stood, wobbled weakly for a moment and began to walk the area around his garden. His legs, atrophied by two years of disuse, had caused him the most problems. He used a cane to maneuver and almost felt embarrassed to use it in front of the man. He stopped before a tree and grasped one of the lower limbs to steady himself. He turned and answered the question, "Yes, as a beginning. I want to know where we stand. I realize that you saved my life. And...and I think that only you can answer some of the questions I have about what happened." Harry bit at his lip and waited.

Snape stood and walked over to face him. "Proceed."

"You said that there were after-affects with Draco. He was possessed by Voldemort. I was also possessed and for a moment...," Harry closed his eyes to fight the nausea that always surface when he recalled the memory, "...for a moment my body contained a piece of his soul."

"And you wonder if you have been contaminated?" Snape replied. He stared off across the garden and seemed to consider the question carefully. "I don't know. Only you can tell me. Us. In time, we may know more fully what the aftereffects are, if any. At this point I cannot tell." Snape turned to him again. "Have you not looked in a mirror since awakening?"

Harry frowned and shook his head. "No. Why?"

Snape raised an eyebrow and then pulled out his wand and in an instant produced a mirror. He handed it to Harry. "Look into it and tell me what you see."

Harry accepted the mirror reluctantly and leaning on the cane with one hand, he raised it up with the other and looked in. He studied the face that was slightly unfamiliar. There was the days growth of beard and the glasses, the green eyes- and then- he saw it. A clear forehead. No scar. He brushed at his forehead with the hand holding the mirror and turned the mirror to look again. It was gone!

"My scar, my scar is gone!" He looked at Snape in astonishment.

The man nodded and said, "Yes, it is gone. No one ever knew why you received it in the first place and no one knows why it has disappeared. Suffice it to say, that is probably a good sign."

Harry was still looking into the mirror. He caught his own eyes and the moment of joy was gone. "So how long will I be under suspicion? How long will you wonder if I have been...contaminated, as you say?'

Snape shrugged. They stood looking at one another for a long time before Snape turned and walked a few steps into the garden and seemed to be studying some herbs planted there by Dobby.

"I realize that many things have changed," Harry began again and started up the path to walk alongside the man, "Many things at the Ministry and Hogwarts; in the wizarding world. Are the Malfoys going to give us trouble?"

Snape nodded slowly. "They have several others with them, Bellatrix Lestrange and others. Malfoy has come into his own. He has different goals then Voldemort did and different methods, shall we say, of reaching those goals. The Ministry has gone through an evolution or perhaps it would be better to say, a revolution. They are ill-equipped to deal with this new danger. That is hardly news. They have rarely been prepared to face such threats."

"I'd like to help," Harry said softly and Snape turned quickly and stopped. Harry hurried on, "I would. I don't know what I could do, but I don't have any immediate plans and I find myself at loose ends. I don't think I can sit in this garden forever and do nothing." He waited and Snape remained silent. "I know they don't have Aurors at the Ministry any longer. Madeye said that there was this elite corps of wizards that were being trained. He said that the Ministry will be very anxious to show that they are on top of things. He said that I should try and join." Harry rushed the last, realizing that he was confiding in the man he thought he would forever loath and hate.

Snape snorted slightly and answered, "Time will go by and their passion will subside. Lucius will take advantage of it; knows it will happen. If you choose to join this group Moody talks about, you may find yourself without a job in a short time. The Ministry has a very short memory about such things."

Harry considered what he was saying, knowing that Snape was right. He continued, "I understand that you have also gathered some people together. That you are training them for this kind of special work."

Snape started walking again. "There are others, some that you trained... your friend, Weasley... that have asked for some assistance in pursuing a career in this field. They call themselves dark wizard hunters. They are wise to keep their work secret and to follow up on what was started so long ago." He stopped and waited for Harry to catch up and looked at him for a long time before continuing, "They take my orders and work for me. If you wish to do the same, you must return to Hogwarts for another year and obtain your N.E.W.T.S."

Harry stopped. He had known about the dark wizard hunters from Ron himself. It had been one of the reasons he had summoned Snape. He was not prepared for what Snape was now asking of him. He thought about it. He would be the oldest student there. Hogwarts would never be the same, not since they had abolished the sorting and the houses, not since Albus Dumbledore had died. He knew that he could not complain to Snape about not wanting to return to Hogwarts for additional education.

"All right," he managed.

Snape studied him. "It will not be as terrible as you think, Mr. Potter. McGonagall is retiring and would probably accept you as an assistant teacher while you studied. You would have to work very hard to catch up in certain areas."

Harry nodded and shrugged.

Snape nodded and turned to leave. "Very well. I will speak with her."

"Mr. Snape?" Harry called out quickly. Snape turned again. "There is one more thing."

Snape stopped and stood at the gate.

Harry knew that he risked alienating the man if he pursued the subject. He felt that to go on- to take orders from the man- he needed to start with a clear slate.

"Why did you hate me so much?" Harry hobbled over to him. "What did I ever do? The moment I entered Hogwarts, you hated me. I was only eleven years old and I could feel it. Every day, you went out of your way to bully me. You were cruel. I think you know by now that I wasn't raised by wealthy, loving relatives. My life with the Dursleys was hell. I have never felt the need to prove myself to you...until now. I want to begin this life fresh. I don't think I can do that if I don't know the truth."

Snape looked down at him along that long aquiline nose and the eyes darkened. Harry remembered the look from his days of sitting behind his desk and feeling the stare as he struggled to mix potion ingredients. He was determined to not show fear or to cringe. He was no longer a child, he was now grown, and it angered him. He kept his feelings hidden and waited. He didn't think Snape would answer even though they had shared a near-death experience.

Snape folded his hands once again before him and seemed to focus inwardly. Harry was sure he was not going to get an answer.

Snape's hand rested on the gate and he stood staring out onto the lane over-shadowed by the foliage of summer trees. There was traffic on the road. A carriage went by and they heard voices of travelers. Since moving into the cottage the boundary of the wizarding world had extended itself to the Potter home on the Godric Gryffindor estate. Wizards and witches now moved freely around the estate and visited it as a tourist attraction.

In his heart, Harry knew that they were more attracted to the small little house that housed 'the boy who killed the Dark Lord' then they were to the ancient manor. His attention was drawn to the road and to the voices and the summer sunshine and the smells of the new mown fields. It never failed to stir his emotions when he thought of his parents few short years living in peace and tranquility on the very spot where he stood. It had brought him tremendous relief to return to his home to heal.

He was patient and comforted by his surroundings as he stood waiting.

Snape glanced at his hand but did not make a move to open the gate. He turned and looked at Harry and then said clearly without malice, "It is not wise to try and understand me, Mr. Potter. These things are in the past and best left there."

"Is that it?" Harry breathed. "Is that all you will say?"

Snape took a deep breath and spoke. "Your father tried to befriend me once. He was alone he wasn't with that pretentious Sirius Black." He breathed again and looked away. "We had just started Hogwarts. Your father met me on the grounds and spoke to me. In spite of what later happened..." Snape glanced at him. Harry knew he was referring to the Pensieve and what he had seen. "...he attempted to make friends with me. I was raised by very strict parents and had little time for friendships. However, I...enjoyed... the relationship."

Harry arched his brow sympathetically and waited. He knew this was taking every ounce of strength Snape could muster to speak so openly.

"Your father abhorred the dark arts," Snape continued. "I, on the other hand, was bottle-fed them. My mother was adept and skillful in the field. There are some things that few people understand. If one is aware of the danger- the seductive, even addictive nature of magic one can prepare themselves. Few have the ability to not be engulfed or consumed by the power that comes with practicing them."

"So why learn them? Why use them?" Harry almost whispered.

Snape turned to him to answer, "Every type of magic has its usefulness. Dark magic is no different. Potion-making is an example of that. It is a mixture of both; one can make a poison or a heal." He turned away again and studied the road. "Your father set up some rules, shall we say, in our friendship. He insisted that I not use the magic or discuss it. However, when it was convenient for him, he came to me and asked me to use it."

Harry stood straighter preparing himself for what he knew would be a well-kept secret. "Go on."

Snape looked at him sharply. "Are you sure, Mr. Potter? Some things are better left forgotten. You have ever been ready to come to his defense. Are you sure you want to know?"

Harry remembered questioning Sirius after seeing the tricks they had pulled on Snape in the Pensieve. He felt he was old enough to acknowledge that his father had not been a perfect boy or man and he said so. "My father was not perfect. I know that he humiliated you. I know that Sirius put him up to it many times. That was when you were children and I can understand that there would be a lot of bitterness about it even when you were older. But I think that by betraying them to Voldemort that you got your revenge. That doesn't explain why you hated me."

"It was obvious almost from the beginning that your father and I could not share a friendship," Snape said, ignoring what Harry had said. "There were too many differences and too many pressures to allow it." Harry thought he was talking about his Madam Prince, his mother.

"I was hurt by the dissolution of it," Snape said so quietly that Harry found himself leaning forward to hear him. Snape continued, "He chose his friends; Lupin and Black and later became my nemesis."

"What caused him to be so cruel towards you?" Harry asked swallowing hard.

Snape sniffed and paused for a moment. "He came to me and asked a favor. He wanted me to use dark magic to bring about an outcome. After all of the things he said about using it and how it degraded a person, he was suddenly very intrigued when it would serve his purpose. He wanted me to teach him, wanted to renew our friendship. However, that was a farce. As soon as he got what he wanted he again reverted to his previous pernicious self."

Harry was growing almost frantic with impatience. "What did he want?"

"He was attracted to your mother, Lily Evans," Snape said quietly. "She found him to be self-important and arrogant and wanted nothing to do with him."

"So you made a love-potion? What?" Harry was now guessing in order to force the issue out into the open. "That's hardly dark magic. Half the school was doing it in our fifth year."

"Perhaps I haven't been clear, Mr. Potter," Snape was sniffing. "Dark magic is a very difficult and precise discipline. Without skill one can get lost in it. It has the quality to disturb one's personality, to distort and twist; to consume the wizard. I was a boy and I nearly destroyed myself several times in performing magic that was better left to older, more skilled wizards."

Harry was now frowning. "Was this one of those times?"

Snape nodded slightly. "There was some residual effects from performing the spell that he wanted me to perform. Anytime you use dark magic, Mr. Potter you run the risk of losing a piece of yourself. You saw with your own eyes what misusing it did to Voldemort; he was hardly human. Over time any wizard who is not wise can succumb and degenerate to such a creature."

"Mr. Snape," Harry coaxed. "I don't understand. Please..."

"Your mother was a very kind person," Snape said. His face revealed a mixture of anger and great sadness. It was the first time Harry had seen him look like this. Snape continued talking, "She would often come to me and talk to me. What you saw in the Pensieve was a moment of embarrassment on my part. It was out of context. I called her a mudblood, but hardly felt that way about her. She was very intelligent and would help me with charm work. I insisted that she keep it a secret and she assumed it was because I did not want my mother to find out I was with a mixed blood witch."

Snape walked away from the gate and turned slowly to face Harry. "Your father learned about our meetings. He came to me and wanted to trade places with me for one evening."

Harry was feeling nervous suddenly. "Trade places? Like he would show up when she was supposed to be meeting you?"

Snape remained silent.

"You mean literally trade places. You mean switch bodies?" Harry croaked. "She met him instead of you- but you acted like him, talked like him- but it was you! And she never knew."

Snape nodded.

Harry leaned against the stone fence for support and stared at the man in astonishment.

"We could not tolerate the sight of each other afterwards," he said finally. " I felt I had betrayed her trust in doing the magic that made it possible and he regretted using dark magic to win her affections. He wanted to be upfront and tell her that the man she fell in love with was not as she believed him to be. He wanted to correct what was impossible to correct. I held sway and refused to allow it to happen feeling it would destroy her. Just as you experienced a connection with Voldemort following his possession of you, I also continued to feel a connection with James Potter," Snape almost spit out the name. "It was as if a half of the other resided in each of us. It stopped only when he no longer lived."

Harry's mouth dropped open and he was gasping like a fish on the bank, unable to draw in enough oxygen to form any words. "She fell in love with you?!"

Snape waited and walked towards him slowly. "I think it is safe to say that half of you is my son and the other half his. No one will ever know. We shared the same physical body that night. I wanted you to be my son and knew that you weren't the first moment I laid eyes on you. I looked for something in you that was a part of me and saw nothing. That doesn't hold true any longer. I believe that there is a part of me in you whether you wish it to be or not."

Harry dropped his head in total shock and felt the man walk by him and open the gate. He felt a faint brush of cloth against cloth as Snape walked by and a moment when he hesitated.

"I am sorry, Harry." The words were whispered. "I am truly sorry."

He was just in time to look up and over his shoulder and watch the man disapparate in the beams of the sun cascading down through the green leaves.


End file.
